My new friend...

She used to tie a string to her pedal and rock the bassinet, to put the children to sleep. The dull roar of the sewing machine with the gentle motion was the perfect combination for a perfect rest time baby routine. She was quite the seamstress my grandmother. She did things with much passion and will power. I am sure her skills were sought after. That was my dad's mother. My mom's mother was diligently a seamstress out of necessity with eleven children to clothe at times their dresses consisted of remnants found in the house. However her skill was also that to be reckoned with. 

My mother has also obtained that tool. Growing up she made me anywhere from swimsuits to dresses. Always original with much love, not always due fully appreciated. For children in their feeble mind desire what is popular and begin to shy way from that which is original. Thankfully that stage was short and I learned to love the things my mother made me and found pride in the work her sore hands could produce.

When I was a college student, I would stroll the second hand stores and found beautiful outdated fabric and dresses and made them to suit me and the times. A fun hobby, that brought some sense of uniqueness to my clothing.

So now with my girls, I have begun to pass this trade. They are with me while I sew projects and see a idea from start to finish, they are curious about my sewing machine. Cecilia has already made a pillow and is looking forward to designing and finishing a concept. Ana has attempted to thread and dethread the machine and has learned to turn it on. If they take it they will attain a gift offered to them by a generational line of women, if they do not it would be okay, for their are many talents hidden in such blood lines.

A sad event when my machine broke. But no later than a day my husband brought home my new friend. My new partner. She is good to me. Maybe some day she'll teach me to use a pattern.