Good advice, badly relayed

this will say "happy birthday" to my aunt and be part of the pillow's border

(Having gotten the adolescent disclaimer out of the way, I'll now post something legitimate.)
In an attempt to get myself to use the sewing machine, I have embarked on a project that has a deadline. My aunt is turning 70 this weekend, and my cousins are throwing a surprise party for her. She is the craftiest woman I've ever known, a great and frequent presence at church bazzarres--a fearless seamstress, quilter, jam-maker, project-finder...You get the picture. It was she who advised me on my sewing machine purchase. When I called her for advice, I thought she'd say "Oh, Singer's a good brand" and I'd be off to make a purchase.
That is not what happened. She has devised some very specific and extremely helpful criteria for buying a sewing machine*, and when she shared it with me I knew I was in the right hands. In the end (which came really quickly after the beginning, as I was chomping at the bit to buy a machine), she actually did the research and picked out my machine for me. It is a Husqvarna Emerald 116, and it does not kid around. Or, it doesn't look like it kids around. Haven't we established its current position as loyal dust-collector?
Anyway, I figured my aunt loves me, so she won't mind if the pillow I make for her is an unmitigated disaster. So today I'm embroidering a pretty scene to include in the pillow, and I'm listening to Neutral Milk Hotel, and I'm feeling like I'm on the right track... Will post photos of the process if I can find the camera.

*She said you must listen to the sewing machine. The motor should hum and the needle's action should be smooth rather than clacking. Of course, she would say it better, and she did. But that was several months ago and in the intervening time I've tried to forget I even own a sewing machine (too much lazy-girl guilt). Here's what I will do: pull her aside at her birthday party and ask her to repeat her sewing machine criteria once more. Then I will publish it in my totally unread blog. So that no one can read it. This is weird, like being invisible. But I do think I'll get brave soon and tell people about my new blog.