I was lucky to go to middle school when they had classes like sewing, and wood shop. I wish I had been a book reader, but I wasn’t. I was maker. My mom and dad also stressed the importance of knowing how to make. The making process served as a way to entertain, and provide a basic means to take care of yourself.
My first sewing projects in school were a tote bag, and a skirt. I can remember shopping at the fabric store with my mom to get all the supplies. I was so excited. I remember wearing my skirt to school for the first time. I was at the bus stop waiting for the bus. One of my friends told me she could tell I had made my skirt. The fabric was an off white and blue gingham fabric. She pointed out that my lace hem was white. I should have used an off white lace. It hadn’t occurred to me. I was a little hurt, but tried to pretend I was fine with it.
Since then, I have embraced my flaws. I have never experienced perfection, and never will. The art of quilting has given me an outlet to celebrate all that is imperfect.