When I look at the end of my arms, I see something terrifying and, oddly enough, simultaneously spectacular--my mother's hands. My mom, Bonnie, was a very talented woman. My step-father and I always teased that her kitchen was the best restaurant in the county. She could take the most modest of spaces and make them seem fit for a palace, and there wasn't a garment or sewing project she couldn't master.
Throughout my childhood she taught me all things domestic. I swear she used domestic chores as a form of babysitting and unusual punishment for just about anything. Of course I did not figure that part out until I was much older and had children of my own. I would come home from school each night, after my older sister had married and my brother found a part time job after school, to a list of things to keep me occupied and insure I was prepared for the life of a good adult female in the 80s. So, Mom taught me to cook and clean with the best of them and insisted that I learn to sew. I learned but never really took to it until I was older. Today I am an avid quilter and love all things fabric and "fibery."
I lost my mom a couple of years ago after a difficult battle with cancer. When I enter my woman cave to sew or just smell the threads and peruse my stash of gorgeous fabric, I often send out a little "thanks Mom." She gave me her love of sewing after all, some of her talent for all things domestic, and her capable hands. A gift I will always cherish.
So today I start this blog to share my creations, my favorite tips, tools, and stores, and my love of all things domestic.