Looking back on my life as a working woman, wife and Mother, I wasn’t able to allow myself time to create. I tried the usual homemaking pursuits.
Started knitting while pregnant with my first and he still has scars on his head from the Phentex wool bonnet he wore on his trip home from the hospital. When he turned two, I started a beautiful blue pullover and finished it when he was four. He still hasn’t forgiven me for nearly ripping his ears off as I was determined to get it on him. The worst part was he wouldn’t let me take it off so I had to cut it off while he tried to run away. Turned to easier projects and knit my Husband a brown wool scarf. It started out six inches wide and ended up 12 inches wide. If he wore it in the rain and it got wet, he could barely walk. So, I turned to crocheting and my friends said it is much simpler and more fun. My first project was an Afghan. I did have a blast crocheting large circles, medium circles and tiny circles. My problem no one wanted to help me get all the circles put together and our house wasn’t big enough to lay them out. Finally gave them all to the grandchildren for Barbie and Ken doll clothes. They have a plethora of hats and blankets in all colours.
My next project required buying ten pounds of nylon to make slips and panties. I remember that was a bit more challenging. But I was given a crucial tip – take masking tape and place it on the inside of the material so the outside would be nice and shiny. I spent a whole Saturday making one pair of panties and proudly showed my Husband while commenting this could be a big money saver. He had a look and handed them back – pointing to something in the crotch. I had left the masking tape inside the crotch!
I won’t even talk about my experience doing ceramics but that darn beer stein takes up a whole cupboard.
My Daughter recently told me I had a lot in common with the Goddess Hestia who was noted as the goddess of hearth and providing a welcoming home. I had to agree that was my focus. I now I realize it was not my calling. Before I met my Sister’s wonderful new man, she told him “think of my sister as Martha Stewart on steroids”. He still calls me Martha!
Now at this stage of my life, I am so enjoying writing.