Sewing Roots: Mom

I realized that for some of you, my sewing seems out of context, therefore I decided to write up a little mini-series: Sewing Roots. I believe there will be two installments: one about my mom, and one about my own sewing history.

Here goes:

I grew up watching my mom sew. She sewed for me, for my siblings, for friends and acquaintances. When she cut fabric on the kitchen table, I would climb up on a chair and watch her. And she would reveal bits of information, about the fabric grain, and where to pin the pattern pieces, and what to do with those notches. And I soaked it all in. When she sewed, I would climb up on the end table next to the machine and watch her and she would give me more nuggets of precious instruction, like how you have to take the pins out as you go so you don't risk breaking your needle, and how you have to be careful not to sew your fingers, about backstitching, and how the pedal controls speed.

Me at three years old in a dress that Mom made for me. I loved Strawberry Shortcake, so she made me a dress from Strawberry Shortcake fabric. Prized dress. I still have it. Also, please note the knee socks that are cutting off my circulation. I HATED knee socks.

Opal Claire, my Cabbage Patch doll, with two dolls my mom made for me. The dark haired doll in the middle is named Jenny. I don't remember the name of the blonde doll.

Mom made me a baby doll with embroidered eyes and hand sewn yarn hair. My Cabbage Patch Dolls had the most extensive wardrobe thanks to my mom. I had baby beds, baby blankets, and even a baby carrier thanks to my mom and her sewing. Even my Barbie dolls had clothes made by Mom. There was nothing she couldn't sew.

That's me loving Jenny.

Me in the first grade in another dress that Mom sewed for me.

I have fond memories of going with her to the fabric store and looking through the pattern books. And several times she even let me pick out a few patterns for her to sew for me. It was like Project Runway, 1980s child version. I got to pick out the pattern and the fabric and Mom sewed it while I looked on and learned. I loved being the designer of my own wardrobe.

Of course, Mom's sewing started quite a bit before I was born. When she was 10 years old a doll dress she sewed was entered and won a prize at the Utah State Fair. She sewed many of her own clothes as a teenager, and when she got married she was able to keep the family stylishly dressed despite Dad's small Navy salary.

A dress Mom made as a teenager.

My two oldest sisters with my parents, Hawaii 1971. Aren't the matching outfits just the bomb?

My parents again in Hawaii around the same time. Notice my sisters' matching dresses, and Mom's impeccable sense of fashion. I really love her dress.

Everything the five of us kids are wearing was made by Mom (except for the socks and shoes, and perhaps the chonies).

She sewed for fun, out of necessity, and to challenge herself. When I was 8 years old or so she made me these dolls:

Raggedy Ann and Andy that Mom made. Their faces are painted, their hair is hand sewed. She made these dolls in many sizes for several of her grandchildren and friends.

And around that same time, she made me this Halloween costume and the doll I'm holding:

Honestly, Mom is amazingly talented at sewing. When I wear something I made around her, I'm self-conscious, worried that she will see the flaws. She's a perfectionist and infinitely patient when it comes to sewing things right. You will never see skipped stitches, or crooked seams, or unfinished edges on anything she makes. She is amazingly talented and I look up to her. Thanks Mom!

Mom and me in 2008.

Wealth... of baloney?

So the other day when I wrote about Suze Orman and feeling poor after watching her show, I realized, especially after a humbling comment by my dear friend Shannon, that I sound like an ungrateful, whiny, SSB-like, jerk.

I wasn't complaining about our own financial state. At least I didn't mean to be. We have been blessed. We did indeed go through a dirt poor, watering down our Flavor-Aid, eating only rice-a-roni and quesadillas, being vegetarian because we couldn't afford meat, watching our 13" TV with rabbit ears that was propped on a metal folding chair from an old stake center renovation, deciding between paying our tithing or buying food period. It was tough. And because we went through that, we realize just how blessed we are to not have to worry about deciding between two good things (i.e. paying tithing or eating). The contrast is stark. And I often think of those times with fondness, and look how much we've been blessed and thank the Lord for the comforts we enjoy.

What stood out to me about watching Suze's show is that pre-show I felt pretty darn good about our financial state: we've saved, we've been careful, and we've only spent money that we had. Post-show I felt like all my efforts to save and make smart purchases, and be a wise steward over what we've been given were not enough, that somehow I needed to be pulling in $20,000 a month, and that I needed to have a quarter of a million in the bank for retirement.

That contrast was pretty stark too.

So that's why I wrote about that. I was surprised at how inadequate I felt our actually adequate finances are. And I really meant it to be light and fluffy and more like, "Wow I didn't know I needed that much money." I'm guessing it didn't come across that way.

And how I must have sounded got me to thinking about how I present myself in general. I know I come across as whiny and ungrateful. So I whine, and yet I get to sew and shop and travel and do all these wonderful things. And I must seem like a huge jerk. That's probably because I am to a large degree. Don't you love how I have these bi-monthly epiphanies that encourage me to be a better person, all thanks to the blog. (Thanks, as always, for the therapy.)

There are wonderful things* happening in our lives that I am so eternally grateful to God for, but we're not ready to share them with the www yet. It's been a long time coming, and the wait has been hard. I've been impatient and childish and unhappy and haven't had a great attitude. I'm imperfect (ever so). Thanks for bearing with my impatience and whining. I'm sure that I will still find things to whine about, because, let's face it, that's my nature.

On a lighter note, I've started on a new project that I'm excited about: a pencil skirt made from upholstery fabric. I sure hope it turns out.

Also, it's about time that TC and I did some furniture rearranging and redecorating, so that should be coming up soon. It's always a challenge to find just the right furniture for just the right price though.

* not a baby

Happy Pioneer Day

July 24 is Pioneer Day here in Utah. It's the commemoration of when Mormon pioneers entered the Salt Lake Valley, before it was the Salt Lake Valley. We have a great parade here, a rodeo, services and all kinds of celebrations to help us remember the holiday. More about the parade (since I'm a complete parade geek) later. For now, let me tell you about one of my favorite pioneers.

Meet William Carter, aka the dude with the funny beard.



He's one of my great grandfathers and his story is something like this. He was born in England in 1821. When he was 19 and working as a blacksmith, he was invited to attend a meeting by two Mormon missionaries. He listened to the sermon, believed their message of a true prophet, Joseph Smith, and that the gospel that Jesus Christ organized when He was on the earth was once again on the earth in its entirety. He was so convinced that they had truth that he wanted to be baptized immediately. The missionaries said, "Young man wait until you learn more about it." William's response was, "If I could wait another year, I would not be any more ready than I am now, for I know that you have the true church." Soon after he was baptized.

A few months later he left England, left his parents and all of his siblings but one sister to travel to the United States so that he could join up with other Mormons in Nauvoo, Illinois. After three months of travel (and I complain about 24 hours of travel to get to Argentina), he and his travel mates arrived in Nauvoo. William's shoes had long since worn out, so he walked with bare feet. When he heard that the prophet Joseph Smith had come to greet the group William felt embarrassed that his feet were bare and found a fallen log to hide his feet under. When Joseph Smith approached William, he asked him, "Boy, what are you here for?" William said, "For the gospel's sake."

And for the sake of his belief in the gospel he had made so many sacrifices thus far. A few days after arriving, he began working with the other saints to build up Nauvoo.


Now to the really good part. In 1847, Brigham Young, the second prophet and president of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, organized groups of Mormons to travel west. William was in one of those first groups and after months of travel arrived in the Salt Lake Valley on July 24, 1847. He was the first to plow the hard desert land and even devised a way to wet the land by diverting a creek so that the land would be soft enough to dig it up (sounds simple, but it was an innovation at the time).

Like so many others, William gave all he had because he believed in the message of the gospel. For the rest of his life he worked hard and lived on very little because of his faith. And God answered his faith with blessings. He trusted in God completely. As with so many other topics I feel strongly about, there's more I could say, but to keep myself from being long winded, I'll cut it off here: I'm grateful for the work William and other early members of the Mormon church did to establish the Salt Lake Valley and the church.

I hope your Pioneer Day was happy!