Everyone Has to Start Somewhere

My mother was quite the seamstress and made all our clothes when we were young.

How about those pom poms?? Leslie and I thought we were terribly fancy.

Both of my grandmothers sewed, with Grandma Martin being a real whiz at clothing and especially costuming.

My aunt and uncle ready to perform for a Red Feather Service Association fund raiser in 1950.

Grandma Honeywell did gorgeous embroidery, crochet, and other fine handwork. 

So, you might think that I had the sewing gene, too, right?

Well... maybe. It wasn't very evident at first. But everyone has to start somewhere.

I began when I was about 8 years old, making blankets for my Breyer 5 Gaiter who I'd named Sham 

 

and a cheap, nondescript plastic Quarter Horse named Apache Joe.

I took scraps from my mother's sewing basket, cut out rectangles, embroidered their names on them, and added yellow wire closures. I still have them and smile when I realize I'd inadvertently done those blankets in Breyer's company colors!

When I was 15, my best friend Shelly was already a very good sewist. 

Shelly (right) and me in high school, twinsing. We were unrelated, but shared the same last name and loved to dress alike.

We both did 4-H, but she was in Clothing Design and Construction and got to dress elegantly and model her creations onstage at the fairgrounds during Fair Week. Meanwhile, I was in Horse and Pony, wearing dusty jeans and boots, and shoveling manure in the livestock barns!

I started playing around with fabrics and my mother's old Singer sewing machine and, with advice from Shelly when I got stuck, began sewing my own clothing. I never had a sewing lesson, not from either of my grandmothers or my mother, but I learned the basics by trial, error, and practice and discovered a life long love sewing.

Shelly is a master quilter now.

She hand stitched every piece of this quilt. Isn't it gorgeous?

Because I helped her a bit with the horses on that quilt, she made me my own quilt block and sent it to me as a surprise. It hangs in my tent for Jolis Chevaux.

As a young mom, I sewed all my maternity clothes and the kids' baby clothes, continuing to sew for them on into high school for Prom and then weddings. 

So, when Breyer asked me what I wanted to teach for BreyerFest this year, my mind went back to my own beginnings. The blankets for Sham and Apache Joe. Some fairly spectacular fails when I made a dress or two for me. And so on.

I felt it was important that any beginning sewist who watched whatever I presented would not feel overwhelmed and could complete a successful project. That they might feel encouraged to continue on their sewing journey. That what I taught included lots of sewing hacks, tips, and general how-tos that would be helpful to them.

I rewatched my 2026 seminar yesterday for the first time since I submitted it in April. I think that there is something for everyone but especially for those who, whatever age they are, are learning how to sew.

I hope it encourages them to keep at it and that down the road, some of them will be part of the hobby sewing community and knocking our socks off with their creativity in pouches, aprons, pads, blankets, and more.

I'm staying 'tooned for that!

 

Mama: The Beginnings

First Post of the Day (I Hope)

Thank you for all the messages of condolences. Please know they are appreciated so much and that I will share them with Lisa.

I gave myself a grief migraine yesterday and spent most of the day in bed. Of course, Pepper, Tammo, and Nash joined me, but that was a good thing. They are missing Mama, too and are bewildered as to why she is not with the pack.

In March, 2022, I took some time to write down how Molly had come to be a part of our family. At the time I wanted to remember how a girl who came from very rough beginnings in life became a beloved member of our family.

The name she came to us with was "Holly," probably because she was born in December. I changed it to Molly as I liked that better. Later, Lisa began calling her "Mama," and that, in my opinion, was her real name. It fit her beautifully.

Here is that blog post I wrote for my journal. I will be adding some more posts about Mama as I heal from her loss. The depth of sadness at her passing is deep and hurts terribly. Even now the tears are flowing as I write. 

But I can manage to repost this today.

------

The Story of Molly, first published March 18, 2022

I haven't written much about the dogs recently but they are very much a presence in our lives. I took this snap of Nash, Pepper, and Molly at Lisa's home earlier this week.

Molly was originally our dog, not Lisa's. We got her from a rescue and she had come from a situation where she had been used as a breeder for puppies. Was it an actually puppy mill? We are not sure. But it had similar conditions to one.

Molly as she looked when she arrived at the rescue. She's dirty, she's stressed, and she's very, very scared. This photo breaks my heart. (She'd also just had a litter of nine puppies taken away from her.)

She came to us with terrible fears and anxieties - we have no idea what happened to her or why she was (and still is) so terrified of things, especially men.

We struggled to make her feel comfortable. She got to the point where she would let me approach her and pet her, but would leap in alarm at the slightest sound or if I moved too quickly. She also began to relax somewhat around Craig, although she did not want him to touch her.

Enter Lisa and her dog, Millie. Lisa teaches school and so a couple of times a week, she would bring Millie over for the day, just so she would have some company and get out of the house. 

Lisa and Millie. Photo by Vanessa Isenbarger/Pearl Photo and Design

Millie was an older dog and we noticed that Molly would relax and was more comfortable when Millie was visiting. She enjoyed having the company of another dog and had more confidence when Millie was around.

We also noticed that Molly ADORED Lisa - she would run to the door and greet Lisa when she arrived to pick up Millie, and then sit by her side if Lisa stayed and visited a while. Molly was a different dog around those two and clearly much happier with them than she was with us.

After nine months, Craig and I finally made the difficult decision to let Molly go and be Lisa's dog and not ours. I cried and cried after she left. But that turned out to be the absolute best decision we could have made for Molly.

Molly had found her forever home. She was deliriously happy and stuck like glue to Lisa's side.

Millie and Molly were companions for three years and then, sadly, Millie passed away in February, 2021. Knowing that Molly needed a companion dog, Lisa rescued Nash.

Big, goofy, still-puppyish Nash, young enough to be Molly's great-grandson and big and gentle enough to make her feel safe and secure.

In less than a day, they had bonded and Molly was cuddling up with him to sleep.

It's been a bit over four years since her rescue, and Molly is doing really well. While she still can startle easily and is very hesitant around people she does not know, she has accepted Craig and me and is not afraid of us anymore.

Me giving Molly a good skritch under her foreleg a few weeks ago. Her toes are splayed in delight and her ears are in happy position.

Snooze buddies - Craig petting her as he falls asleep in his chair. (She had approached him and asked for some attention.)

Enjoying some Skinny Pop with me while Lisa is at school. (Molly got the first piece and is chewing.)

Checking me out recently when I was trying to nap on the couch. She was hoping I'd pet her instead of sleeping - what a change from the days when she would run from our touch!

Look at the love in her eyes! She is sitting up on her hind legs and has placed her paw on Lisa's arm.

Trusted to be off leash and enjoying the summer grass in our yard.

It took the first eight years of her life, but Molly now knows she is safe and loved. And she loves right back. 

Deeply.