Mothers are very special people. My mother, is a lovely and talented lady. Among her many talents is her ability to sew. It’s a talent neither my sisters nor I inherited — whether by choice or not, I don’t really know why.
Mom made all of our clothes and some of the neighbor’s when we were growing up. My grandmother had a treadle sewing machine she would pump away at. My mother had an electric one that had ‘attachments’ that she would keep in the bottom drawer of the machine.
It really wouldn’t matter which sewing machine my mother used, the results were way above average. I remember once seeing a dress in the newspaper that I wanted so much and mother just studied it. She drew out the pattern on newspaper, cut it out, adjusted it to fit me and she was ready to go.
Placing the home-made pattern on top the dress material, she started to cut. The scissors made a special sound as she cut through the double thickness. She would stop many times as she sewed to fit the dress to me, all the while pressing each seam so the finished product would look professional.
I stood on a table and slowly turned while mom measured so many inches up from the table top because the last thing of course was to put in the hem. Then the final pressing, so I would ‘look nice” at school.
My mother no longer sews dresses for me or my sister. Her grandchildren find the clothes they need at the local department store. She no longer sews clothing, so she make quilts. Her quilts could stand inspection from “the best of them”.
Me? My talent is with a hot glue gun. I can fix any hem.