The last year has been a flurry of yarn, fabric, visits to the sewing machine repair shop, and snipped threads that find their way into the wash and emerge stuck to everyone’s clothing. Since I reconnected with crafting, after close to a decade away, I’ve barely come up for air. I’ve logged countless hours with sewing machine and knitting needles, thrown myself into online tutorials and craft books, messed up more than a few times, and created some lovely little things. Along the way, I discovered something.
This work makes me happy. I love working through the details of a project, finding a solution to a sticky situation, snipping off the last threads.
And working at something I love makes me a better person.
Crazy, huh? I don’t know why it took me so long to figure it out. And actually, in the end, I wasn’t the one who did figure it out. After a long, lovely summer of nearly unfettered creating, a busy fall kept me away from it completely. And as the weeks rolled by, I found it harder to be nice. When I snapped at my husband (again) one night, he commented that I hadn’t been as tense over the summer.
And you know what? He was right. Which is why I now make time to create. And which is also probably why my husband
puts up with encourages my craftiness–even though it sometimes makes parts of our bedroom look like this:
I’ve been blissfully busy these last few months, with so many works in progress that I sometimes don’t know where to direct my attention. I recently finished up this bag for one of my mom’s friends:
“Mama’s Bag” from SouleMama’s book Handmade Home. I’ve made this bag so very many times now, for myself, as well as for gifts, that I don’t even have to look at the instructions anymore. And yet, somehow it’s always perfect.
I have just begun playing with a project that both excites and terrifies me. A dear friend handed me this 30+ year old quilt top, a souvenir saved from her first trip alone, at the age of 18.
All these years it has been packed away, and she has now asked me to turn it into a baby quilt for her husband’s new grandson. What a sweet, storied gift! I’m putting such thought and care into this project, wanting to do it justice. I’ll be backing it with this sweet, soft red flannel.
Lastly, I promised to make “fuzzy pants” for my wonderful friend Anne, who is travelling to ENGLAND next month, lucky duck. I went on a flannel-pant-making bender over the holidays, cranking out a pair for my mom, as well as matching pants for me, my husband, and our two sons (I know, I know, but they’re so darned cute). When Anne saw my pants, she leaned over and ever so sweetly and ever so quietly asked me, “Would you make me some fuzzy pants?”
How could I not?
This dreamy flannel will soon be Anne’s fuzzy pants.
And now I’ll return to the work at hand.