S is for…

Sewing tools.

I know how to sew, but I don’t really sew. I can’t imagine not having a sewing machine or a sewing basket in which to corral the needles, a small stack of fabric, thread and pins for the mending. Heh, the mending that I never, ever get to. The girls always outgrew the mending pile — usually by years. Right now, my main sewing basket is set atop the sewing machine case under one of the dining nook windows and atop of that is a pile of stuff with holes or missing buttons or blown out seams or falling-down hems, along with some fabric and patterns.

The accoutrements of sewing are many and they come in all sizes. I have three sewing machines and about a half-dozen sewing baskets. Two of the machines are, at the moment, non-working treadle machines of the heirloom variety — one from my maternal grandmother, the other from my paternal great-grandmother on Grandma’s side. The baskets and stands are a bit of a problem… I am inexplicably drawn to them — wicker, wood, plastic, it doesn’t really matter. All but one are filled with items having nothing to do with sewing — they hold yarn or needlework, and one in my bedroom holds belts.

I’ve sewn skirts, shorts and tops for the girls, dresses for myself, even a bag. My main line, though, has been curtains. I’ve made simple curtains and valances for nearly every place I’ve lived. My neighbor lady even asked me to sew a curtain for her once. I never met a tension rod that I didn’t like. When DH’s surrogate grandparents’ home burned and the family rallied to transform an unused outbuilding into a new living space, I felt helpless. As the mother of a one-year-old who required constant attention, I couldn’t pound nails or pull wire or paint, but I could make the curtains! It isn’t home without the curtains!!

My mother — while she hasn’t sewn in quite a few years — is an amazing seamstress. She used to sew for Sharon and Karen and me — three of everything — even after she had Michael, but the sewing machine was keeping company with the mothballs after Annie’s arrival (though Ann definitely benefitted from the sewing with all those hand-me-downs). Mom sewed cute, ruffly, flannel nightgowns for the girls with matching gowns for their Cabbage Patch dolls a few years ago — she still “sews.” One of my grandmothers always went over the seams of all of her store-bought clothes, not trusting the workmanship. The girls, too, have “sewn” — outfits for all of their dolls, alterations to their own clothing — though I am using the term quite loosely. (Sometimes scotch tape, string, staples or safety pins replaced needle and thread, and sometimes kleenex or paper towels or leaves replaced fabric — can you see why we like Project Runway so much?)