Tag: Sewing

Significant Other

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 © jb katke

It is not what you think.

Today I feature a friend from long ago. Artie, old enough to be my mother, was my mentor in all things quilting.  She was all knowing in my sewing world. I would like to think we were good for each other.

I was new in the community and a novice in the quilt guild. She befriended me as I tried to fit in with so many gifted women. They didn’t know my skill level; I knew how to run a sewing machine. That didn’t matter to Artie, she determined to like me anyway. She had a saying that I still hold dear today, “From the back of a galloping horse, who is going to see the mistake?”

Wednesdays were set aside for us to quilt together. We met at her house, as her husband, Bill, was in poor health. I think the big event for her though, was not the quilting, but going out to lunch. During Bill’s days of employment, he had lunch out and wanted nothing more than a home cooked meal every evening.  Being home, with the kids, she wanted nothing more than to go out.

This photo I share with you, is what I was working on at that time. A handkerchief quilt. In my quilt room I have three handkerchief boxes overflowing with hankies from my mom, grandmother, and aunt. My guess is back in the day, they were as essential as underwear.

Rather than get rid of these handkerchiefs that bring memories of these women, a quilt seemed like a good way to use them. It may have touched Artie’s heart too, appreciating bygone days. I had used fifty of them, putting some around the edges, bed skirt style. Today those handkerchief boxes are still brimming over.

Back in the days of quilting bees, women would gather together bringing their completed quilt tops and attach batting and backing. They could whip out several in a day as they all worked together. From what I have read, they also talked. A lot. Because women have concerns.

That hasn’t changed. Women of today do too. Artie and I would talk. We need a safe place to say things with a person you know will not share it with the world. That was the way in a pre-Facebook era.

My quilting days today don’t look the same. It was a season in my life, when I think the good Lord knew these two women each had something to share with the other.  I began taking my Bible memory verses to Arties for her to help me learn them.

Artie shared she and Bill attended church when they were child-raising. Those days were over. Its difficult to stay focused on a spirit lead life when you don’t get refueled on a regular basis.

 I will never know this side of heaven, but hope those shared times renewed Arties faith. The people in our life are an influence and there for a divine purpose. God bless you all in spending time with me.

Those 9-9 Girls

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Looking in my daughter’s eyes, I could feel her heart sink. She supposed her teacher and I would be rehashing the good old days. That was not to be.

We were at her junior high open house. Lo and behold, she had the same Home Economics teacher I had so many years ago. As I re-introduced myself, Mrs. Tada rolled her eyes. “Oh, those 9-9 girls.”

Turning to Cindy, she explained, “That was my first year teaching.” I could hear what she didn’t say. I never want to relive that year.                                                                                                                                                                                               © JB Katke

 

When I was in school, back in the dark ages, students met in homeroom. It was there that we listened to announcements over the PA, attendance was taken, then dispersed to our various classes. We were numbered by grade and group, hence my 9-9 status.

My Home Ec class was a little on the rowdy side. Not me of course, I considered my sewing class as recess. It was the only subject I excelled in. But poor Mrs. Tada had trouble keeping order in the classroom.

My friend Belinda got into a heated disagreement with one of our tablemates. Belinda picked up a seam ripper and as if shooting a dart, took aim at the girls face. I freaked out, fearing the girl was about to lose an eye. Thankfully nothing happened.

Cindy feared comparison with the sewing skills of her mother. Instead she learned Mom was young once and part of a class filled with immaturity. My school days were challenging too. .

Home Ec didn’t ‘click’ with either of my girls. But that’s okay. Both of them has excelled in areas I could never have imagined. I think it’s interesting how they have grown up in the same home, with the same parents, but blossomed individually. My children make me proud.

At birth, each of us are given differing gifts and talents. Sometimes it just takes a long time to realize them, like myself. I’m finding life is a giant learning process.