Classic Americana crafts are making a comeback and I'm stuck on sidelines. It seems like everyone but me can work yarn or thread. I can't sew, crochet, knit, or needpoint. I'd be hard pressed to sew a single button. Fifty years ago, every self-respecting girl learned some sort of craft. What happened to that tradition? It's gone, just like Sunday dinners at Grandma's house. Some of my best memories as kid involve my Granny sewing something by hand in her little house on Kentucky Street. I don't really remember what she was creating, if anything, maybe just sewing up a seam or something, but it left an impression. My mom used to lug out this beast of sewing machine on our dinner table on occasion, while I played with the avocado-green sewing box, chock-full of colorful buttons and patches. In our throwaway society, a sewing box is a cultural relic, talked about like milk bottles left on doorsteps.
But a renaissance is happening now, and I'll be damned if I miss out this time around. David's step-mom made us this beautiful afghan for Christmas, so you see, inspiration is all around me. I'm not sure I'd have the patience for knitting or crocheting, but sewing does appeal to me.
Motivation — check. Inspiration — check. Sewing machine — need to go get one.
My first project should I actually buy or inherit a machine will be these cloth baby shoes. Wish me luck.