The 'broidery bug. It has bitten.

And now I'm seriously cursing myself for never learning how to sew. Not that I can't learn. But I am sewing machineless and even if I did have one...I don't even have a place to sew. Is it wrong to move one of the kids into the pop-up camper? Yeah? Thought so.

The boy, seeing my delight in making the girlie a book bag for the library, immediately asked for his own. He's a ten year old boy with a huge love of sports and outdoorsy stuff. No cute puppies, spaceships or flowers for this kid. Which, damn, is what I really want to do.

I am also fairly patternless. I mean, I don't have any books or anything...except for one and there are no hockey playing owls (or whatever is sporty and naturey) in them. I was at some store or other, perusing the threads and looking at some patterns and I came across something I thought he might like. Out of the eight or so choices he picked the fish:

I have to say... not crazy about the fish choice but it's his bag, not mine and I have a feeling that he's going to be getting the least benefit out of my new found love of stitching. Please excuse the lack of ironing.

Close up of the cattails. Did you know you can eat the stems and use the inside of the fuzzy brown part to line your clothes if you were say, stuck in the Canadian wilderness? Also, it's flammable. So says Les Stroud.

Dragonfly about to meet his untimely death.

The reverse side...the boy's name is edited out (that is NOT some jumbly mess of stitching below the pocket thankyouverymuch). I threw in some pine trees for good measure.

Star darn. I love this stitch.

And there you have it. Project Numero dos.