George Eliot, pseudonym for Mary Ann Evans, was a novelist, journalist and translator in the 1800s
Mary, between her sisters Wanda and Ruth LaVonne. Mom is wearing one of the hats she created…and quit creating after awhile. She finally stopped wearing hats.
Dear Mom,
“It is never too late to be what you might have been,” according to George Eliot (pseudonym used by Mary Ann Evans, 1819-1880). For the last two posts, we’ve been discussing sewing, embroidering, knitting, etc., and quite a few of our blog friends wrote that they wished they’d been taught to do some of those crafts.
The good news is that George Eliot was right: It’s never too late.
For instance, Roosevelt “Rosey” Grier, former football player for the NY Giants and the LA Rams, later was also a bodyguard for Robert Kennedy. Rosey is seriously strong and rugged, and he was one of the NY Giants’ original Fearsome Foursome, so he caught the gender-sewing issue off guard when he added needlepoint and macramé to his talents. Some of his creations became so popular that there was demand for his patterns.
And now, Mom, for my favorite “never too late” story, let’s tell our friends about your freshman year in college. At the last minute you needed a long dress for a formal dance. When you took your gown out of the clothing bag, there was a loose thread. You pulled it, and–z-i-p!–you unraveled the entire hem.
You’d learned basic embroidery and quilting when you made your bird-pattern quilt, but you’d never learned to hem a skirt or do any practical needle work beyond sewing on buttons.
Ever resourceful, you ended up using safety pins to hold the hem in place. And when you ran out of safety pins, you finished the job with masking tape. You said that when you danced, you made an odd-sounding rustle. After that, you told Grandma you were ready and eager to learn “real” sewing.
By the time you were married and had children, you could make everything from hats (see picture) to underwear (no picture available…) You even dismantled one of your long wool winter coats and created a little coat for me. You made it with a big collar, and I was truthful when I said it made me look like “one of those people who came over on that boat.” (I think I meant the Pilgrims.) You also made a little jacket for David out of the wool, but I don’t remember him ever having to wear it.
Pablo Picasso said, “Others have seen what is and asked why. I have seen what could be and asked why not. ”
I would add this, Mom. You saw what needed to be done and asked someone to teach you the basics. After that, there was no stopping you.
Picasso also said, “The chief enemy of creativity is good sense,” and you proved this point by creating hats, underwear, and Pilgrim-style coats. But other than those few examples, you created amazing, beautiful and useful things. Hats off to George Eliot, Rosey Grier, and Mary Shepherd!
It’s Not Too Late!
Popular theme of writers and artists: Create Your Own Happiness.
Things I Want To Tell My Mother 
Dear Marylin, Wonderful post as always. I am the youngest in my family, and so had clothes from others. My mother said I looked like I had just gotten off the boat. Thanks and blessings to your mother too, Ellen
Luckily for me, I had only an older brother, so there weren’t many clothes we had to share. As the youngest in your family, you had what my grandmother called the “loved to pieces” outfits she spent hours mending so the next child could then wear it.
Thanks and blessings for your wonderful poetry and comments, Ellen.
Oh, Marylin, you have your mom’s gift of creativity, for sure. Love how you’ve woven your mother’s experience with some great quotes from both George Eliot and Pablo Picasso. You’re right, it’s never too late. My uncle, a veteran of World War II, took up needlepoint in his senior years.
That’s so interesting, Diana. When I told a friend about this week’s topic, she said her father learned needlepoint in the VA hospital. The focus, concentration and creativity became an important part of his healing. He made a 5″x7″ framed insignia of his “unit” and kept it on the wall the rest of his life.
Blogging Friends: “Success Is Not A Straight Line” is a wonderful reminder of all the twists and turns our creativity can take. This lesson is a gift! http://www.dianastevan.com/2013/writing/success-is-not-a-straight-line/#comment-821
What a wonderful story, Marylin! I did not know George Elliot’s real name…so thank you for that. I loved hearing about how your mom fixed her dress with safety pins and masking tape…sounds like something my grandmother would have done (and myself)…if there was a hole in the wall, she would find a picture to hang over it.:) I also have a funny story about a cable knit sweater I made for my husband when we were dating. I think I’ll do a blog post about that. 🙂
Oh, Vivian, I knitted a sweater for Jim! On our honeymoon, I got the yarn and pattern in British Columbia and it took me almost six months to knit. But I was definitely a beginner, more interested in the process than the end product. Bless his heart, after all these years, Jim still has it neatly folded, safely stored in a drawer…My heart was in the right place; my talents were way off.
I hope you’ll do a post about the cable knit sweater you created.
Marylin, you’re Mom never ceases to amaze me. Every time you write about her there’ s a new insight into her life. Wonderful.
Thank you, Don. I’m glad you enjoy the stories.
If it weren’t for the dementia, I think she’d blush and say, “Oh, that’s nothing. Everybody just figures out a way to fix things.” But she really was very talented at taking whatever life dealt her and making the best of it.
And Pablo Picasso. I’m inspired – think I’ll resume painting, which I gave up years ago. That was the original plan, to be an artist.
That’s what your lovely mother represents – inspiration.
Do it, Julia! Pick up those brushes again and grab the original plan, you artist-at-heart! It’s not too late, you know!
Make do and mend – my mother has a lovely little jacket she made for herself when she was about 18 in 1934 (5 ft 2, and she weighed about 100 lbs), in soft but sturdy black brocade silk. The material came from her grandmother’s skirt, so must be well over 100 years old. Sadly, it is a little worn under the arms and none of her descendants are dainty enough to wear it. A keepsake and family heirloom, nonetheless.
Black brocade silk–what a treasure!–and if it’s over 100 years old, you’ll find a way to save parts of it. We found a very old quilt of my grandmother’s, and because of the holes and stains, I could rescue only portions of it. So I cut out five good-sized heart shapes, added cotton backs and stuffed them, one for each of the girl cousins, which also represented all of Grandma’s five children.
I hope you’ll find a way to save at least parts of this family heirloom.
Mum and Nanna were great knitters. Nanna also sewed but, apart from the air raid shelter embroidery, Mum’s sewing ability passed her by. Nanna was always on hand to darn socks, turn collars on Dad’s work shirts and replace lost buttons. She had a wonderful ‘button box’ which my sister and I would enjoy ‘tidying.’ Where she acquired the amazing assortment of buttons no-one ever quite fathomed.
I love your posts Marylin – they make me remember things from my own past. An ocean and practically a continent apart and yet there are so many similarities…
I have a button box, too, Jenny, and it has buttons from my mother, her mother and aunts. My daughter grew up lining up the buttons, arranging them in displays, counting them, etc. She’s always calling “dibbs” on the button box when I’m finished with it!
You’re right, Jenny, we have so much in common, even being an ocean and practically a continent away. Wonderful, isn’t it?
That’s a lovely story. It reminded me of a woman friend of ours. They needed to build a family room and extra bedroom/bathroom in their basement. All winter she took carpentry classes to learn how to frame and finish a basement ‘recroom’. Her husband is a designer and he had made drawings of the rooms. After the course she bought lumber and spent months framing the new rooms in the basement. She was proud of her achievements but, I think, was getting a little tired of the work and length of time to complete the project. She decided to hire a professional to do the electrical, plumbing, drywalling and finishing. He came in gave her the price. But when he started, he said “You know it’s going to be a whole lot easier to get rid of all this framing and do it myself”. So he demolished all her preparation work and built the whole thing from scratch.
It turned out very nicely. I think she was disappointed that her work was discarded, but we were all very proud of her for taking the time to learn and even think about taking on such a complex project. She learned a lot and I think had fun while she was the builder.
I really enjoyed reading this, Rod…and feeling SOOO relieved that this didn’t happen to my mother. Before she hired a professional, she would have strapped a tool belt on me, and we would have hammered away until the whole house shook! I’m so glad your friend’s rec-room turned out well in the end, too!
Wonderful stories and memories…and I loved the quotes too. Your mother has such a great smile in that hat picture! My mom and Gran made hats too. The soak the reedy stuff and sew together type in 50’s. They also took black hats and covered them with pheasant feathers from Dad’s western Kansas hunting. Now you should have seen that mess! Ha. Very cold back here, Marilyn, but I know you are cold too. I am not happy about harsh winter starting so soon…always want it to wait until January and then I endure with no complaints…well, fewer anyway.
No hunters in my immediate family, Claudia, so at least we were spared Mom adorning her hats with pheasant feathers! But she did use a lot of wrapped “netting” and ribbony accents. Her hats were something else.
It’s “beastly cold” here, too, as my mother used to call it. I’m hoping it tapers off soon.
Another wonderful story Marylin. Your mom wasn’t just ready to learn new things she was ready to turn them into art forms for you.I can imagine sitting comfortably in the kitchen with her chatting about her memories over a cup of tea.
xxx Huge Hugs xxx
Oh, if it weren’t for the dementia, David, the two of you would have a lovely cup of tea and talk and talk. And if you brought along your grandbaby, she’d be the one holding and nuzzling Reuben!
Oh Marylin, your mother looks so happy sporting her latest creation…what a great photo! I had to chuckle when I read about the loose thread. I’ve done that many times and immediately had a sense of regret. Repairing a hem is a lot more difficult than sewing a button, and as you know from a previous post, I have problems threading the needle. 🙂 Love this, Marylin!
I can’t imagine how she felt when the entire hem unraveled, but she didn’t lose any time coming up with a Plan B.
You know, Jill, there are these funny little flexible wires you can poke through the eye of a needle. Then you slide the thread through the wire loop, pull the wire back through the eye of the needle, and Voila! it’s threaded. (You’d look like a pro, and no one would ever need to know!)
It’s never to late to look like you can thread a needle! ;=)
Wonderful story. You mom was real creative. I would not think of using masking tape!
I asked her once how she thought of doing that so fast. She laughed and said there was a stapler on the desk, but she didn’t think that would be a good idea. And when the safety pins ran out, it was either masking tape or band-aids.
So, overall I’d say her choices were good!
I can’t remember when I learnt how to sew, but I was quite young then. I even learnt to crotchet, an art I have since forgotten.
She was first on her feet and I agree overall her choices were good.
🙂 As always. Hats off to you!
Thanks, Deb, I appreciate that!
and I have that very quote sitting on my office wall… snap!
Snap! is right. It’s one of the few framed quotes I have. While I was teaching high school students, for years I had it hanging above the desk in my office, so students would see it when they came in and sat down.
Now I keep it on my wall at home, where it’s a reminder to me now.
Guess what I’m doing this weekend? Couldn’t find the winter jacket I wanted, so I got some material to make one. Decided it wasn’t going to be warm enough, so I also ordered some thinsulate (thank my genius hubby for that–he got online until he found a source). I’ll finish the reversible faux fur, corduroy jacket tomorrow. First time I’ve ever made outerwear, but it’s going well.
Interesting that you’re posting about sewing, the very weekend that I got started using the machine I just inherited from my grandmother. It’s a steel workhouse made in Sweden in the early 1970’s (no plastic on it–almost as heavy as a small refrigerator!). I don’t think I would have attempted sewing through all those thick layers without this sturdy machine to stitch on.
Lovely post, once again, Marilyn. And great quotes!
Tracy, my first sewing machine had no plastic, either, and I never should have traded it in on a “new, improved” model. For someone who’s just jumping back into serious sewing of “outerwear” (I had to laugh at the comparison of when my mother tried sewing underwear), you’re certainly taking on a big project. Will you please have your husband click a picture of you wearing the jacket with the reversible faux fur and post it on your blog when it’s finished? I’m fascinated by such a project!
Will do. Jacket is done (now I have to do my hair and makeup before I let him take the picture!)
I fell for the “new and improved” when I bought my first machine. I didn’t realize that the machine is one of the reasons I didn’t like sewing as well, until I inherited the machine I learned on as a child. It’s probably worth nothing, except to me.
Ah, but there is always the exception to the rule that you can do anything Marylin My Sweet……. it’s me off course.
Another example of that was Friday. For the first time ever Ishbel and I decided that we would put some Christmas lights out in the garden so I asked my electrical contractor at work to put a socket out there. He did. Proper double sockets with safety cut out switches and in an all weather box, just the job. I duly plugged the lights in closed the lid and broke it …. Now don’t think he put in a cheap box, no not not at all, best on the market. It is just that I am so cack handed at anything DIY that in almost 38 years Ishbel has learned not to get me to do anything as I am so useless at it.
Hanging paper, not a chance. Did it once when Ishbel was out. she came in walked in to the kitchen and said, ‘very nice dear, but do you know what would have been better, if you’d managed to hang all the strips running in the same direction!’ Oops
Same with rawl plugs in walls, I can never seem to match the hole to the plug or the screw for that matter and whatever I hang normally falls off quite soon after been hung.
Taking the oven door off to clean it properly. I had watched the engineer do this recently as he took it off to carry out a repair. Easy peasy. Lift the catch on both hinges. grab the handle pull out and up in one fluid motion and off it comes, what could be easier. To put back on line up the hinges slide in and gently push down. hah…. £89 call out charge to replace one bent and useless hinge is what happened next …… I could go on and there are plenty of these stories but even the grand kids cover their eyes in fear of what is going to happen if they see me with as much as a screw driver in my hand let alone a power tool
Mind you I could jump out of airplanes, shoot almost any weapon on the planet in my day, blow up things, pot hole, canoe, sail, map read , but then again I was shot, stabbed, crippled almost drowned in the English Channel and on the Danube and down a flooding pot hole system, had a touch of hypothermia, been in a couple of crashes (not involving other vehicles) Rock climb, abseil, you name it I’ve probably done it, I even managed to sew buttons on my uniforms in the army and darn a sock or two in my time but nothing more basic than that
so, pretty useless, BUT I am a survivor and that’s my overriding goal at the moment, to survive so that I can keep annoying Ishbel, the Kids and the Grandkids for years to come and to keep reading your wonderful and inspiring weekly letter to your beautifully gifted and talented mother ……
Xxxx
Oh, Tom, I love your email, and you, too, you multi-bungling sweetheart of a man. I’m still laughing at the image of wallpaper stripes going in different directions…and how calmly Ishbel responded.
Everything you wrote, all the examples you listed, I hope your children and grandchildren know this list and realize what an experienced, talented survivor you are. I’m in awe of all you’ve done.
Candles still burn for you, Tom, and prayers continue. You sound so good and we all need your perspective and humor and strength. Much love and many hugs to you and your family. Xxxx
Your stories make me think that it is a while since I tried to learn something new. It’s never too late, so I better do something about it 🙂
Oh, I know. Just writing this blog has reminded me of several new things I wanted to try, so now I have a new list!
Fun post, Marylin. I had never heard the hem story. During the decades I have known Mary, she always could afford the easy way out, but she frequently chose to use her resourcefulness and materials-at-hand instead of going to the store. Not only was she raised that way, but I think she enjoyed the challenge. And you maybe heard me snickering as I read about the coat that made you look like one of the boat-people. I’ve always loved that story.
I believe Rosey Grier is now an ordained minister, much admired by teammates and opponents far and wide. There are probably several old NFL players doing needlepoint this very moment, thanks to Rosey! 🙂
Last, I really enjoyed reading Tom’s comment above. Now there is a fellow who has really lived! And he writes well too. Hey, Tom, you are not the only husband who has ruined something like an oven-door hinge while trying to fix it. When I really get in a pickle trying to fix something or trying to put a new, “easy-to-assemble” product together, I call Marylin or my grandson Gannon, and before I can blink, they have the solution. (Marylin, remember the sliding patio door? Called you, Zappo, it’s fixed! And Gannon, remember the new charcoal broiler with parts all over the kitchen floor. You were such good help and you informed me you were helping, not for money, but because it was family! We were quite a good team.)
Honey, you always round out the memories, adding sweet details I’ve forgotten, and you’ve always been supportive and patient with my mom, too. I’d still be misspelling Rosey’s last name if it weren’t for you!
As I remember the charcoal broiler, Grace also jumped in to help you and Gannon, too. The ladies in our family love to help out our guys, right?
Thanks, sweetie; together we remember all the details.
Hi Marylin, “Never too late” is a great reminder. Your story also remind me of my mother’s sewing… Thank you for sharing your thoughts.
Thanks, Amy. Actually, as I’ve been corrected lately, there are times when it is too late. So I’ve revised my thinking to the present–It’s not too late–as a nudge to start it NOW.
Love your stories on family. We learned so much from our Moms. Mine passed on her crocheting skills to me and my daughters (or tried to). Mom also taught me how to hand sew many things. She also knitted a beautiful rose-colored two-piece dress. Wish I’d learned that skill as well.
My mom knitted a sweater that was also supposed to have a matching skirt, but a friend had made the same pattern and the skirt turned out kind of like a balloon, so Mom just did the sweater. She used the leftover yarn to make a lap blanket to donate to the nursing home, so it wasn’t wasted.
Now Judy, if you wish you’d learned to knit, what is this week’s theme?
IT’S NEVER TOO LATE. ;=)
Great lesson. It is never too late. Loved reading the comments. So much creativity out there. Sometimes it just takes someone (like you and your mom) to remind us of that or push us in the right direction. I come from a family of sewers and am thankful for what was taught me. 🙂
With all your wonderful travels, Lynne, do you ever buy special cloth and make outfits?
I have to admit that my energy for knitting and sewing ebbs and flows, and I don’t do regularly. But when the mood does hit, I’ve very glad that my mother taught me.
I buy cloth, but use them for table cloths, wall hangings and pillow coverings. But, you have me thinking. 🙂
I love the picture of Grandma in her funny, homemade hat! With her smile, she could “work” any type of homemade outfit – or hat! Grandpa really was right, pretty is as pretty does…..I am definitely learning this more and more as I get older…..
One of my coworkers realized last week that the hem around the bottom of her work pants had fallen out, so she rocked it the rest of the day with paperclips holding the cuff in place! Then the really awesome story, is the PRESIDENT/CEO of my company one day realized that he had a large whole in the crothch area of his trousers, so what did he do….go home and change….I THINK NOT……he went into his office, closed the door, and took his pants off, and stictched it up with a little hotel sewing kit that he keeps in his desk. I LOVE THIS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Thanks for the wonderful story and pictures of Grandma…….I really laughed out loud when I got to the part in the story when you said that you thought you looked like those people that came over on the boat….I can just see you standing at the BIG mirror at the end of the hall at Grandma’s house, just giving yourself a one over, and not being impressed……but if you wore a smile, you could of rocked the little coat! 🙂
Oh, Molly, I was right there with you, UNTIL you thought that I, as a little kid, could have rocked the little coat. I hated that coat, but at least I wore it for awhile. David never wore his wool jacket that I know of. Does that tell you why I’ve always shopped thrift shops and made my own clothes, and my brother only wears designer clothes?
WOW! I won’t mention his name here, but I am so impressed with your President/CEO! I’ve always liked him, but now I think he’s great; closing the door of his office, taking off his pants and using a hotel sewing kit to mend his pants. Double WOW! (Only one question: how did you find out he did this?)
If your grandfather were still alive, he’s be applauding and laughing that you remember his “pretty is as pretty does.” Actually, he’d be applauding you anyway; he was always proud of you, except when you chose the wrong college to attend, and he even got over that…eventually.
Oh Marylin, I just love this post. The message is loud and clear – it is never too late! Also, if you really want to learn something or do something you can put your mind to it and learn it no matter what! I love your mom’s hat and the photograph and also the quotes that fit the message of your post so perfectly. She sounds so very talented with all her designs and the way she took to a task and was so keen and eager to not only learn but to then go on and use her amazing creativity to expand on her knowledge. What a wonderful woman your mom is!
Reading about your mom’s hem coming down and her realisation that she needed to learn how to sew ‘properly’ does remind me of a little story (as reading all your posts do!). As you know, my mum taught me how to sew amongst other things. I used to watch her sewing away on her Singer sewing machine, it was shiny black with gold writing on it and when finished with was turned upside down into the table that housed it so it was hidden away.
I was fascinated watching her using the peddle on the floor to drive the needle above, and how she would thread the needle and use the little wheel at the side to place the needle in just the right spot.
One Christmas I was given a miniture version, it was called a ‘Little Betty’ and it was blue and I adored it. I tried to make my dolly’s clothes on it!
The story though is this: although my mum taught me to sew, when I did actually take it up at school when I was about 12 or 13, my needlework teacher didn’t like me one bit. We were given a project to make a pair of trousers and when she measured me to tell me what size to make, she said I was a size 14!!! I was very skinny back then, ha, and probably not even a zero – no hips, no boobs, tall and skinny. You get the picture.
Mum took me out to buy the pattern and the material and immediately taught me how to pin the pattern on the material and then cut it out and tack it using long machine thread. I was so proud of my work. When I took it to school the teacher was furious because I had ‘jumped the gun’ and make me sit in class until I unpicked every single stitch.
I detested sewing in her class after that. Yet, I ended up sewing in later years and made everything I could and loved it! I dread to think if my mum hadn’t kept me going how I would have ended up never sewing another thing again 😉
Oh, and we always had a button tin, as did my Granny and I do too. What is it about button tins that are so wonderful to little girls?
I’m so thankful for my mum and for the many gifts she gave me and reading this post brings this very much to home. Thank you so much once again Marylin .. 🙂
PS Sorry my comment was so long – I got carried away 😉
Sherri, I do love your stories. My mom, your mum; you Brits have different words, but when it comes to great mothers, both sides of the ocean have them in common!
Speaking as a 30-year teacher, I’m appalled your sewing teacher acted like that, especially making you “unpick” every stitch. What was that supposed to teach you, other than how to waste time? Instead of being punished, you could have been praised and encouraged to try your next pattern at a more difficult level.
She sounded like someone with something wrong going on in her life, and chose kids to take it out on, but I’m not at all surprised that your personality overcame it, Sherri. It could have made you hate sewing forever, but your mother encouraged you, and you kept going on, doing bigger and better projects. To do well is the best revenge, or something like that!
Ha Ha! Yes Marylin, something like that! If somebody tells me I can’t do something then that is the surefire way to get me to prove them so very wrong! That teacher disliked me and I dreaded my sewing classes. She seemed a very unhappy and miserable person. As you say, I’m so grateful that I had my mum to steer me away from that influence. Teachers like this can do so much harm. I forgot to say, there is a little anecdote to this story – when I made the trousers according to the teacher’s method, they were so huge on me that mum and I called them ‘elephant trousers’ and to this day we still laugh about it. I can’t remember what happened to them but I certainly never wore them… 😉
Elephant Trousers? What a catchy marketing name! ;=)
Ha Ha!!!
Marylin, your mom was so resourceful. Love how you tied in Picasso’s quote.
And my mom also made me a faux fur coat. I wish I had appreciated her efforts more when I was a kid, but at least I do now. :-)m
Oh, I know, Tracy. As children we just skip along in our own world, and rarely do we realize that good people are doing good things on our behalf. Fortunately, Moms keep loving us even though we don’t always appreciate their efforts.
Hi Marylin, Great story and great quote from George Eliot. I failed Home Economics (I wanted to take metal working!) and couldn’t sew that skirt we were supposed to sew so I’m impressed!
Somehow, Diana, I find it hard to imagine you failing at anything.
If your school had a metal working class that made statues with skirts, I’m sure you could have finished that skirt!
Another lovely story you have shared with us. Thanks. It reminds me of my college friend who did the same with her skirt as the whole hem unravelled and it was her mom who showed me what wonders she had done with the safety pins. the skirt became a little heavier. I was good with hemming so I fixed her skirt up in time since we had to attend a friend’s birthday party. My friend never learnt to sew and stitch right opposite to the wishes of her mother. I learned in school and was good at it and of course the best teacher was my mom who taught me the basics. Your moms story has conjured up sweet memories of my past and I am enjoying them. Quote from one of my favorite author’s George Elliot is awesome and so well said. Thanks for sharing such a lovely post.
It sounds like the masking tape and safety pins have been the solution for unraveled hems for a long time!
George Eliot’s quote is one of my favorites, too.
I am giggling at the use of masking tape! What problem doesn’t tape solve? 😉 And based on the photograph with the hats, I think you resemble your mother! Beautiful ladies! Blessings, Robyn
When I was growing up, Robyn, my parents’ and brother’s dark hair–and my red hair–set me up to believe it when my brother tried to convince me I was adopted.
Thank you, thank you for saying I resemble my mother!
I had always heard that Pablo Picasso quote as said by one of the Kennedy brothers. I have learned something today. .
Like you, I learned something when I read that Picasso’s quote had inspired both JFK and Robert’s paraphrase. But a friend is still arguing that even Picasso paraphrased it from someone else, so I’m not sure.
Really? I will have to follow that through 🙂
Love your blog Marylin! This wonderful letter to your mom brought back a few wonderful childhood memories of my own. Thank you for the nostalgia.
Nostalgia–enjoying again and again my best memories–is one of my favorite things. Thanks.
Your stories of your mother are so inspiring Marylin, she is such an example to us all.
She’s always been a good example for me, Andrea, so I’m glad her stories inspire you, too!
Lovely. It doesn’t surprise me a bit that you tagged it with a Kansas town. That’s my stock too and they could make anything – creating paper patterns from newspapers and sewing away.
Absolutely! Thanks, Tammy. Where are you in Kansas?
I’m not but my family is from North Central near Washington, KS
Fort Scott is in the far southeastern corner of Kansas.