My sister and I have been sewing furiously, actually no, I am talking total bull – my sister has been sewing furiously!!! I have, as per usual sat in front of the P C, looking up loads of interesting websites, and doing business again with beloved clients, and of course, writing!
I have however, on the odd occasion, helped her with putting in an elastic band for a skirt, or sewing on a bead or two for decoration. But, on the whole, I have had little to do with the sewing, instead having made a few pieces of jewelry to match the outfits. Being a total novice at it, it has been frustrating at times, but also rewarding when it all comes together.
We are sewing furiously in order to stock a shop, to sell online via “Pretty Pieces” blog, to send on consignment or to sell at the first local market in 3 weeks’ time.
(If you like, keep a lookout for my posts on “Pretty Pieces”). And through this all, we have been musing about what our beloved mother would say, looking down upon us from heaven. Because she taught us how to sew. Nothing was ever too difficult for her, and she made any garment from my older sister’s entire wedding entourage outfits, to all our Sunday dresses, and mended many people’s clothes for them. She burnt the midnite candle most nights as she tried to bring in that extra income, never moaning, even after a full days’ work in the local O K Bazaars where she was stock controller. I have memories of reams of material lying spread out on our wooden floors with her on her knees, cutting and pinning. She could make the most beautiful Barbie and Ken outfits – none of my friends had dolls dressed in swanky clothes like mine. When it came to that time of the year where the whole church community would get working towards making the annual bazaar a huge success, my mom surely must rank as the most prolific provider of anything from aprons to knitted bed socks, to beautifully crochet table cloths, which were all spread out neatly on top of any flat surfaces in the house for a few weeks beforehand. And then not to mention the full sets of baby clothes all our babies got.
My older sister, Linda, a seamstress of note herself, has also inherited her knack of making jams, pickles and anything that tastes great coming from a jar. Marietha and I will never be able to compete in that field.
So we were wondering, is she very proud of us, is she gossiping about our attempts to my dad, grandma and aunts and uncles whilst they are sipping tea in Heaven’s gardens? We think so, either way.
Miss you MA!!! A more steadfast and wonderful role model we could not have wished for. And you know what? Your baby turned 52 last week!!! Can you believe it? It feels like yesterday when I was a teen, and you were 52 – to me you were at your most beautiful then! Sleek blonde bob, those piercing blue eyes, a figure to die for, after you and I would run our 10 km every night around the dam. I will always remember you like that.