my story
My mom taught me how to cross stitch when I was young and patiently would untie the knots I created in my thread...every single time.
I remember sitting on the couch with a woman who was babysitting as she taught me how to hand stitch my first pillow. It was made of the ugliest fuzzy yellow material, but I was so proud of it.
I still think fondly of the different women who taught me sewing in all of the home ec classes I took in high school. No matter how "uncool" it seemed to many of my classmates, I was never ashamed of learning how to sew clothing.
My mother-in-law gave me a sewing machine for Christmas one year, much to my delight. It was such a wonderful and thoughtful gift.
My great-great aunt was an artist who kept her talents hidden until one day they were unearthed and I was fortunate enough to give them new life.
When I went to visit my grandmother for what no one wanted to admit was the last time before lung cancer would become too much for her, she passed onto me her love of quilting. She left me bags of fabric, quilting books and supplies, patterns written in her own hand, and hole in my heart where she had been.
So, while I stand before you as a one-woman shop humbly offering her wares to you, I do not stand alone. The stories of many other women have helped me to create my own.
