Now, in my house about 45 minutes outside of where I grew up, I am surrounded by all of her sewing things - the old wooden Singer with the wrought iron peddle; her sewing box that's now filled with brooches, many of which were also hers; thimbles, needles, pincushions, seam rippers, and little boxes overflowing with all sorts of sewing treasures. Using these things makes me feel that I'm still connected to her, that I am carrying on a piece of her life, doing something she would understand and be proud of. This feeling - and that smell in the pin box - is such a comfort to me.
Next to the pin box are two flowers Granny crocheted. I have several more of these, and for a long time, I've been wanting to figure out how to make some like it. My friend Shanna and I went to Granny's house for a lesson one summer during high school, but she absolutely couldn't remember what she did to make them! There is still some hope, though - my friend and fellow fibers artist, Melissa Terry, is trying to decipher the stitch pattern. I have my fingers crossed!