My grandmother died when I was three. I remember her laugh (or at least I've heard it on old tape recordings), I have some of her embroidery and quilt work and I know how she used to fold pillowcases. She was sick a lot, I visited her in the hospital, but I wasn't privileged to know her more. As I picked out the fabric, I came across this little note: 2 yds. I kept it pinned and put it on the back of the frame, this was one of my favorite fabrics.
My dad's dad died before I was born. My dad took my sister and I to his grave and I started to cry a bit and my dad kind of laughed at me. I didn't understand at the time. As I got older, I found out my grandfather was not always a kind person. It's hard when you realize your grandparents or your parents aren't perfect. My dad probably thought it was ridiculous to cry over someone I didn't even know.
I'm hoping Butters and BabyGirl won't remember the times when I loose it and yell, but one day they will find out that I'm not without fault. If my grandkids come across a sample of my handwriting, they'd probably say, "I can't even read this, her handwriting was horrible..." (That's the least of my imperfections).
My grandmother probably wasn't perfect, either, but now I've got a little bit to inspire me, because she did do some amazing needlework and she said some funny things. And now I have a small note from her here. I hope anyway, this could be the woman's handwriting at the fabric store!
Monday, January 21, 2008
My aunt (P. Mookie) had a bin of old fabric and remnants that she let me dig through over Christmas. I went a little crazy. I'll do anything to increase a stash! Among the fabrics were bits of material from clothes my mom's mom made for my sister, old curtains and table cloths, etc. I've got several projects in mind, but the first involved embroidery hoops and glue! I didn't make this up, I saw it here.