Stories of our lives

I spent a busy week in the sewing room making up kits and cutting the scraps into usable squares. Usually I just toss the scraps into a bag, promising to deal with them later. Unfortunately, later rarely comes. This week was different, and I felt delightfully productive.

It was good to feel productive at something, given the length of my to-do list. Although my kids are in college and graduate school – and don’t need me to buy them pencils and notebooks – I still feel the same impulse to be organized and ready by Labor Day. Perhaps it’s just a lifetime of living by the school year, perhaps it’s just knowing the holidays are coming, but I feel I ought to be getting ready for something.

Although I may have a sense of accomplishment, it didn’t lead to anything worth photographing, so I thought I would show you a couple of things that don’t actually live in the sewing room, but which are fabric-related. I went to a book signing for Kathy Boyd Fellure, who just published a children’s book called When The Birdies Came To Tea. The story is based on Kathy’s own experiences with her grandparents at their cabin in Lake Tahoe, and she writes lovingly of her grandmother’s aprons. She and her illustrator researched 1950s fabrics to make sure the aprons looked just right.

That got me thinking about my own apron collection. I have two. The first is dancing lobsters. Hula-dancing lobsters, if you must know.

It was a class sample in a quilt shop frequented by my good friend Gail Sims. She saw the apron, knew I would love it, and talked the shop owner into selling it to her, so she could give it to me as a birthday present.

My other apron has a skull and cross-bones and the caption Don’t Make Me Poison Your Food. My own kids laughed when they saw it, but I’m thinking this might not be so amusing to little ones. I can just see the youngsters, seated at the dining table (assuming I can clear it off enough to hold plates), poking at their pancakes and stealing worried glances at my apron.

If I ever do become a grandmother, I might have to take lessons from someone who knows how to do it right. In the meantime, there’s always the sewing room to clean. And don’t let me catch you laughing at my attempts to organize my creative space – you could find yourself wondering if I’m really joking:

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2 Responses to “Stories of our lives”

  1. Thea Says:

    I LOVE your aprons, Lani!

    I could wear that skull & crossbones one when I cook for the kids at church on Wednesdays… hmmm? wonder if anyone would notice….?

  2. Elaine Schmitz Says:

    Lobsters and skulls!! Remind me not to accept a dinner invitation from you, but a walk through your quilting studio – now that would be interesting.

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