Let me say that if I did not have this thing right here:
I would join the witness protection program and vanish to a place where no LJ Runway Monday producer or judge could ever find me.
A few years after my father died in 1985, I began doing a lot of painting. That is not where my talent lies by any means, but I didn’t do it because I think I’m a good artist. Painting put me in a deeply meditative state in which I felt a soul connection to my father, who was an artist. I enjoyed making color choices and figuring out artists’ tools and methods by trial and error. At one point, someone suggested that I take art classes. I’m sure I would have learned a lot, but painting isn’t my passion or how I’m driven to create. It’s just my way of keeping some paternal energy flowing.
I know that Runway Monday wasn’t conceived to help me find a way to work through grief, but it does have that effect. My mother sewed, and I’m not only making use of her sewing supplies (many of which amuse me because they are from my old home ec class–she saved the oddest things), but I find that it gives me the same kind of connection to her that painting gave me to my father. I can remember so many things she sewed, and I also get to mirror her frustration when I do something stupid and end up ripping out seams and muttering under my breath. (This makes the dogs leave the room, poor things.)
The greatest gift my parents gave me was my love of words and reading. But it’s comforting to occasionally dabble in their talents, too. My mother would be entertained by these outfits Mark, Tim, and I are making for dolls. However, she’d definitely shake her head that I’m sitting here sewing while that tuft of dog hair drifts across my kitchen floor. Housekeeping is not nearly as fun as sewing can be.
On a somewhat connected note, FARB, if you read this, know that I’m thinking of you.
When I sew, the seam ripper is my best friend.
You and I have yet another friend in common!
That’s so touching! I didn’t know your dad was an artist, in addition to being a military man.
Sometimes you just want to keep something at more casual level too, because you want to keep it enjoyable. You don’t want to turn everything into something that you find yourself stressing out about because you want to make what you’re doing perfect.
That is SO true. Sometimes a hobby is just a hobby. Not a passion. And NOT work!
What a wonderful connection.
=)
Thanks, Becks. This was really nice. Reading this I heard your mother’s laugh while looking at the dress designs and it made me smile.
Sadly, my connection to my mother is through cleaning….and I am appalled about the tuft of dog hair (he types as he sees a HUGE tuft of Skittle hair rolling down the staircase)…
You CAN hear her laugh, ’cause you met her. She liked you, too, and your books. =)
I’ll let you do my floors when you do my windows and whatever else it is I’ve convinced you needs doing around here.
Hushpuppies!
Sigh. I am such a sucker for hushpuppies. Make sure you have Comet and a brush and a bucket available.
Always.
Having the supplies is half the battle. 😉
My mother would be entertained by these outfits Mark, Tim, and I are making for dolls.
That sentence got to me. Very nice.
It also makes me wonder if there are any Harris ancestors scowling down at you (or up, more than likely) for using that raffia….
If they’re sitting NEXT TO ME, they are still marveling at how I could turn raffia into a WINNING DESIGN.
And also, they are saying, “The back of that new skirt needs work, missy.” So you may entice them back to NC, please.
This is such a sweet post, Becky. I’m adding it to my favorites.
I started gardening this year because that was my dad’s passion. My mom was a sewer until she got peripheral neuropathy due to diabetes. But I still seek her advice whenever I need to get out the ole needle & thread.
Thank you, Jeff. Gardening is a wonderful way to connect not only with your past, but with the healing earth. Regrettably, I’m ALWAYS happy to leave gardening to anyone else! I love to look at a pretty yard–and eat fresh vegetables, too. But the work–not so much.
As a non-domestic type person, could I ask what the ‘thing’ is in the picture.
We ‘inherited’ a sewing box from my grandmother and there are a couple of these in it (along with about 1000 shirt/blouse buttons!!) – I’ve always wondered what they were?
It’s a needle threader. The little wiry part goes through the eye of a needle. You then put your thread into the little wiry part (much easier than the teeny tiny hole of the needle), so that when you pull the little wiry part out of the needle, the thread comes back out with it, and–PRESTO!–your needle is threaded without a lot of squinting, licking, recutting, and cursing. It’s great for
oldthirty-five-year-old eyes.Oh thanks! What a great ivention! I woudl never, ever have guessed that purpose!
Isn’t it true, though, that the simplest inventions are often the best?
So, then, no more squinting and licking and holding needles up to the light . . .! Wow . . .