New Activities

I was never a fan of home economics when I was in school.  My mother taught me how to cook by example and learning how to make cocoa and toast when I was already responsible for family meals seemed like a total waste of time.  My mother also loved sewing.  I have proud memories of a pale yellow Easter dress she made me, and a pale pink dress with a satin sash as well.  Mum could alter a pattern to fit exactly, and took pride in matching seams on plaid pants more exactly than you could purchase at the store.  She sewed evening dresses and pantsuits for herself, and was always very attractively dressed.  There was always an element of thrift and practicality about her sewing.


I preferred far less practical pursuits.  I knit afghans and scarves, cross stitched a tablecloth, and made needlepoint pictures.  My mother had a scarf she had started to knit before I was born and abandoned before it was more than 3 inches long.  I refused to learn how to hem anything, and to this day I don't.  My husband and sons know better than to ask me to mend or darn or fix any article of clothing unless it's a straightforward seam re-do.  

I have always made it very clear that I don't like sewing and am not at all good at it.  As a matter of fact, I sew like a dog walks on its hind legs:  it can be done, but it's not pretty.  Over the years I sewed place mats and napkins as gifts for my mother for Christmas.  She was very surprised and touched.  When our sons were small I made a deal with them, I would sew any Halloween costume their hearts desired, as long as it was a cape.  They have been Superman, Batman, a wizard, one memorable year they were Ninja Turtles (a shell is similar to a cape).  Well, you get the idea.

Last summer I made a quilt!  It was a complete shock to me as well, but I have a friend who loves to sew, and knit, and needlepoint, and cross stitch, and make dolls.  My old quilt, purchased nearly 50 years ago, had worn out and could no longer be laundered.  My friend convinced me to make a rag quilt.  Actually she took me firmly by the hand and did most of the work herself, but I did enough that I could take some of the credit.  I learned that I didn't sew as badly as I had believed, and once I took my first steps I learned that I actually enjoyed the process.

In retrospect I realize that I was intimidated by my mother's success.  When she was trying to teach me how to sew, I felt like she was proving  how skilled she was, and how unskilled I was.  I didn't have the patience or the maturity to accept her help.  Perhaps I was starting to differentiate between us, by refusing to follow in her footsteps, and finding my own interests.  

I spent a very enjoyable afternoon today with my friend, choosing fabric to make my second quilt.