I hate zippers. I’m not ashamed to say it. I’ll say it again. I hate zippers. I really have this love hate thing going with zippers. I love them on my bags. I hate putting them in. They quietly taunt me as I pull and struggle to line things up and put everything in proper order. In the end, I’m victorious but the process is enough to kill me. That’s how it will happen, I’m certain. My husband will come down to my studio one day and find me slumped over my sewing machine…one hand gently across a zipper, in the other hand, grasped tightly in my fist, my seam ripper. The look on my face will be…teeth gritted together and my eyes in a rage. And then he’ll know…it was… it was…the zipper!

Ok, photo one. The pile of thread that went in and back out of Jens bag. More seam ripping than I care to admit to. Photo two, the bag that Jen will, and I do mean without hesitation, MUST, either will to her sons future wife as a priceless heirloom OR be buried with, clutching in her dead hands to take with her into the next life because with the amount of stitches in this bag, it will most definitely last her through at least 9 lives.

Let me share with you my day. The day that will be known from here ‘til eternity as “the 12 hour zipper day”. So, I took my lovely girls and their girlfriend to daycamp at our church. I then met my wonderful husband at our local coffeehouse and we shared a veggie wrap that was, oh, so scrumptious. We sat by the front door and had a front seat to chat with everyone coming in. Chatted up the local jeweler, saw our accountant, talked to one of the lifeguards from the pool. My husband and I parted ways. He went to run some errands. The baby and I went home to start sewing.

I text my friend Jen and tell her I’m starting to make the purse she ordered and asked if she wanted to come over and keep me company while I make it…fully assuming I’ll be done with it in time to pick up my kids in the afternoon from camp. About 11am, I get started. Jen shows up around 1pm. In that two hours, I don’t even get the whole purse cut because I had to feed the baby AND the crop duster buzzing the house…ohh, that’s a whole other story…but it took up some of my time and started my endless hours of frustration.

I get fully immersed in making the purse and I’m quite proud of myself at first. Check out the front of it…nice, eh? Cute little pocket on the front with a snap flap. Love the use of the bias tape for trim – looks sharp. Then it was time to go get my kids. Pick them up and leave them at their friends house for an hour and a half – I continue sewing. I start in on the zipper. ..or I should “the zipper”. Sew a seam, tear it out, sew a seam, tear it out. Gussets don’t line up. Strap is twisted. Don’t catch a piece of fabric. There’s a gap. I lost count of how many times I tore out the seams. No exaggeration, I think it was 20 times along the zipper area. Did I mention I hate zippers? Yeah, so seriously, we take a break and Jens family and mine head to the local Skyline for a 5 way fix. Good stuff. (LaRue, if you’re reading this – I know you’re drooling. Mmm, skyline, coney dogs, cheese and onions…mmmm).

Come home, Jen follows and we start again. My husband is left alone to get the two grubby ones who were in camp all day, cleaned up and off to bed. The crop duster returns. I’m imagining a machine gun mounted from my studio window so I can shoot it down. Buzzing the top of my house for a total of two hours today – big sigh and a shake of my head and a few choice words hurled his way in the sky. I tear out the various seams about a dozen more and more and more times. A couple of whip stitches here and there and finally, 9:30 ish at night…the purse is done. Did I mention I hate zippers? Some day, I will be the master of zippers and when I am, I’ll remember this 12 hour zipper day and how it took 5 years off my life and I’ll just throw my head back and laugh. Not. I told Jen she better just put stuffing in the bag and make it look like she has it full of her junk and carry it in her car so that everytime I see her, she shows me how much she is totally lovin’ this bag. Vera Schmera! Two Peas rule!