In the Beginning

I started crafting when I was about four years old.  At that time in history, I was in awe of my big sister's affinity for Barbie and followed her to see what the next project, party or style for Barbie was going to be.  I was a plump and smiling four-year old and she was a skinny preteen.  We shared the infamous dimple on the right side of our cheeks and, unlike the "middle sister," we were enthralled with all things Barbie.

During the school year, the big kids - there were five (three brothers and two sisters) - would head off to school every day while I was left behind with my Mother.  Of the memories I have, they were long boring days as my Mom cleaned house.  At first, it was fun to have the toy room all to myself, but eventually, it became old.  At age five, I began the pitiful pleas to begin school, so they let me start first grade a little early. 

In contrast with the school year, the summer was full of fun and excitement.  We spent very little time in the house....I think that was the rule my Mother made!  She cleaned so hard she didn't want anyone, especially kids, to mess it up.  After all, my Dad was in the military, so cleaning was the number one priority for inspections.  Anyway, for the kids, summertime fun was outside in the blistering heat of the mid-Texas town of San Angelo.

My first recollection of doing anything "handy" was when I caught my big sister, Toni, admiring some fabric; probably from old clothing, or maybe a dime-store find.  I was only four, so my memory is sketchy (but it's my story, so I'm sticking to it!!) Anyway, she was admiring the blue fabric with white flowers and sewing it into a Barbie blanket.  I think she already had a sewing box, some pins, needles, a pin cushion and thread.  After bothering her enough, she finally "caved in" to sharing the mystery of her craft.

She set me up on the shady side of the house.  We sat with our backs against the wall of our small house and she showed me how to line up two pieces of fabric (right sides together) and pin them.  She demonstrated how to thread the needle and insert it with thread through the fabric, carefully explaining the distance from the edge.  Once finished, we turned the fabric right side out and stitched the opening shut.  Finally, we stitched on top of the piece to quilt it.  I remember how she stressed the importance of "perfect" stitches.  She made me take out my mistakes each time I messed up!  At one time, she ran into the house to get something (maybe it was the seam ripper) and I remember poking my finger with the needle while she was gone and looking at the blood - that's probably why I still remember this day!

Once finished, we had the perfect little blanket for our Barbie house.  Of course, she actually had the perfect blanket and I had a blanket.  Most importantly though, she planted a seed within me.  It was a curiosity of how to make things and yearning to do something with my hands.  It was the beginning of the development of patience and an appreciation for something pretty, new and different.

I like to read stories of the beginning of a crafting life because it reminds me of my own story.  My crafting start took place in the blistering heat in a Texas town with the small comfort of our house shade.  It was about the small prick of a needle that made my finger bleed and the repeated steps of sewing and then taking out the crooked stitches.  I messed up, but got unlimited chances to try again.  It was about the beginning of many demonstrations from my sister and then my own (sometimes failed) attempts to repeat the steps. This is the beginning of my lifetime of crafting fun.