I'd forgotten that I'd promised to remake Hubs' housecoat that I'd made him, I used the wrong pattern at Christmas and it was a bit on the small side. He wants one that is longer and bigger around, so it is more like a giant blanket than a robe. I have everything I need, I simply forgot to do it. When a project lingers longer than a week or two, I definitely need a reminder to do it. By the time he comes home, he will have a comfy, oversized robe to snuggle up in. Something to protect him from the chill that comes with this much rain and the lingering dampness.
dang that looks long from this angle
I'd started to cut it out yesterday, so I only had a few bits to finish this morning. I'd stopped for several reasons, mostly it was the knowledge that if I put an extension leaf in the table it would be much easier to handle. And I wasn't in the right mindset to tackle that yesterday. At all!
As I was gathering everything up to cut it out, I discovered that my pattern was tattered and needed repair, and while gently pressing and creating the missing pieces I was struggling to understand why I was so reluctant to sew. I love sewing, but my mojo has been missing for over a month now.
It hit me like a ton of bricks. The last time that I had sat down to sew, not helped the Dragon or a quick repair, was the day Beau had his breakthrough seizure. I'm pretty sure on some deep level, I was afraid of a repeat. I can get kind of hung up on things like that.
This morning, as I was gently using my hands to smooth and press the soft layers of flannel together, I found myself lost in thought. Where did this knowledge come from? Heck, where did any of the knowledge of things I seem to simply "know" how to do come from?
Is it passed down from some deep pool of familial DNA? They claim to have proven that every woman born carries the cells of their maternal ancestry. Do those cells also carry the knowledge from generation to generation? I promise you that I did not learn to sewing in Home Economics class. Oh, don't get me wrong, I was shown the basics, but I was not the type of student that had the patience to listen for long. That is still how I function. Let me dig in, don't sit and talk at me. I assure you I will have tuned out in the first 5 minutes. My brain has already started sorting the project out without you.
As I slid the pins in, it seemed like something I have always known. Now, in all fairness I have been sewing - my first love, since I was in school... so we can safely say at least 45 to 50 years (cripes that is terrifying!), but lessons are not something I ever took. I don't have the ability to focus that long.
I don't tend to make clothing any longer, although I am very capable. There was a time I made most of my clothing and my kiddos. But somewhere along the line the cost of the patterns, then the fabrics, sky rocketed. It was no longer the least expensive way to have nice clothing. I have made wedding gowns, bridesmaid dresses, heck I even got coaxed into making a flamenco ball gown once. True fact - I despise working with boning and taffeta fabric. One of my favorite work "suits" from decades ago was made out of a beautiful navy wool. I wore it forever.
Again, as the prices soared and my spare time decreased, I fell into the habit of buying today's disposable clothing. Although, I am that person that keeps things for years and years. I have sweaters older than my children. I will mend and alter something until it barely resembles it's original self.
So lets go back to my original question, where does that almost innate knowledge come from? Are we all born remembering bits and pieces from the past? Do we each receive our own special mix of past knowledge that we are then given free will to do with as we please? Is that why I am drawn to creating? I use so many mediums, and I am never content to stay in one lane. Even now I am fighting an overwhelming (and I believe soon to be lost) battle to build a frame to make rugs out of scraps. Every time I turn around there is another pull to do this.
It doesn't mean I am giving up any of my other passions, just adding to the mix.
Do I have a pool of genes that are causing me to be driven to be self-sufficient? Is that why I do the things I do? Would it be quicker and easier to pick things up at the store. Yup. Of course it would. But where is the satisfaction in that? I don't want to be all the same. I don't want to trust others that my food is safe. I don't want to lose the skills that seem to always be right there when I need them.
I remember the sweet woman that taught me at the farmers market to use a drop spindle. I remember hearing her tell me that I must have been born with the skill as I was a natural. I was surprised at how easily it came to me. I'd always been drawn to it, but had never even attempted it. And there she was, offering to show everyone interested how to use it, how to create with it, right in my path as I was browsing for fresh vegetables. I left with a new spindle and roving, forgetting the veggies altogether.
I have friends and family that are incredible hunters, fishermen/women, their gardens are incredible, they have awesome skills with mechanical things, builders, medicinal, some are naturals with animals, amazing with numbers and math, etc... are those skills that they inherited along the way?
When I was in school I could not have cared less about being there. It wasn't my thing. I wasn't even very social, my "group" of friends was small and most I have long since lost touch with. My mind was a million miles away, except in history or art based classes (those always held my attention) at least until a teacher spent far too much time explaining rules and far too little time doing. If I started doodling, it was a great indication that I had tuned out. I was also that kid that never knew what I wanted to be when I grew up. Lord almighty more than a few teachers and counselors would make me crazy asking that question.
Me. That is what I wanted to be. Simply me. The person that now, at almost 60, I have become. The person that is free to follow the dozens of ideas that pop into my head on a daily basis. The woman that sees something beautiful and wants to dive in and experiment with the process. The person that has tons of knowledge without understanding the root of it, simply dying to try it all, immediately.
I don't know if I will ever know where the knowledge, ideas and drive comes from, but I am so thankful to possess it. To have been gifted with these treasures.
Thanks for walking in my crazy, random thoughts and questions. I may never be a master at anything I do, but I am so thankful for the journey and opportunity to explore them all. Aren't you glad you aren't my sweet Hubs? The man that feeds my insatiable quest to learn, do and create? He deserves a medal!
my co-conspirator in all I do!
Time to sew, he also needs a nice cozy, custom made robe....
love and peace, b
Good one! 381+
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