Here is an excerpt from Milk Cans and Quilt Blocks. This perspective helps me more fully appreciate our differences.
The Doily
I am not much of a
crafter. I haven’t the patience for
it. Cutting and sanding wood, painting
cute faces on it, gluing on hair, fastening a hook for hanging – none of those
things really appeal to me. I would
rather visit while someone else does the crafting. I have often blamed my real
job, lab work with its tedium, for my dislike of crafts. I craft all day! Why do I want to do it for fun?
Ironically, I have one hobby
that falls into the crafting category.
When I was ten my oldest sister, Kaye, taught me to crochet. I made something for a Barbie doll to wear
and one small doily. I learned that to
correct a mistake properly, one must pull out all stitches looped after the
mistake. This can be extremely
frustrating if the project is extensive and the mistake has been overlooked for
some time.
Over the years, I have
crocheted sporadically, usually making a doily for an event or occasion, using
it to justify time spent in front of the television, or to pass the time during
a long road trip. Occasionally, I have
made an afghan or baby booties, but I prefer doilies. My favorites are large table top doilies with
intricate patterns that take several weeks to complete. Often I have pulled rows of stitches out in
an attempt to make my doily perfect.
I have been known to take on
projects unrealistically. So it was that
I determined to make large doilies as graduation gifts for nine of my
daughter’s friends. I began in October. When the New Year arrived and I had completed
two, I knew I was in over my head! One
evening as I was tearing out yet another row, I grumbled about it to Marie.
“I could go a lot faster if
I could just quit making mistakes!”
“You should just leave
them.”
“I can’t just leave them. It
would affect the whole doily. Every
mistake would just get bigger and it wouldn’t work out!”
“Then just fix it. The mistakes give them character.” She replied.
I was a bit frustrated that she didn’t see the severity of my dilemma.
Two weeks later as I was
about to pick out another row, Marie’s words came back to me.
“Just fix it. The mistakes give them character.”
If I was going to make my
goal, I couldn’t keep back pedaling. I
had to move forward, and I could fix it.
Much like writing around an obstacle in a story, I could add a stitch
where one had been dropped, or drop a stitch where one had been added. Most mistakes could be fixed so as not to mar
the entire work. And so I did.
I have a special apron
embroidered for me by Grandma D. When I
have occasion to wear it, I trace the stitches with my fingers locating the
mistakes that are there. Grandma D
passed from this life years ago, but as I study my apron, I am always reminded
of her. I wonder what may have
interrupted her as she was working. I
treasure my apron partly because I know that nobody has one just like mine.
A doily is much like a life. Woven of a single thread, it has many turns
and changes along its way. Not every
stitch is perfect, and like each of us, there are places where mistakes are
made and flaws occur. In spite of its
faults, the end result is a thing of beauty.
Even the mistakes are appreciated in that they contribute to the unique
quality and impression of the doily. May
your life be like a doily. As you
progress along your path, learn from your mistakes, continue onward, and form
yourself into a thing of beauty and experience.
Find all my books in my Etsy shop or on Amazon and Kindle.
Happy Running!
The creative writing/publishing/book selling business is
hard work. It’s fulfilling if you, like me, have a drive for communication and
teaching through written word. I have discovered, quite by accident, that I also
find fulfillment in creating beautiful things with my hands. Some will gasp! Some
may call me a turncoat! You see, I have long shunned crafting and I have been
quite free with my opinions. I feel pressured when a group activity is
accompanied by painting, gluing, or even sewing – I prefer visiting. I
especially dislike painting!
