Here’s where I’ve been, and what I’ve seen. A place to visit, and a place I call home.




Where have you been, and what have you seen lately?
Here’s where I’ve been, and what I’ve seen. A place to visit, and a place I call home.
Where have you been, and what have you seen lately?
Can another person truly appreciate the collections of another? I’ve been contemplating the answer to this question. Each time I climb the stairs to my attic, I transcend the reality of down below. Surrounded by bins full of color, texture, and print transports me to a reality all my own. Will someone else be able to share my reality or create their own?
I own three Singer sewing machines, two Bernina sewing machines and one Bernina Funlock machine. My first Singer was given to me by my parents as a Christmas gift, the second was given to me by my husband when I was expecting our daughter, and the third I bought from a co-worker who needed the money. The Bernina I purchased for myself and the second Bernina was given to me after my mother-in-law passed away. Each machine, as silly as it sounds, represents a stage in my life. They are a part of my history.
Which brings me to the reason for this post…I didn’t think I had much in common with Betty, except for her son and granddaughter, my husband and daughter. Well, that was until I inherited her sewing machine, fabric and notions.
Rarely, did I see Betty wear color, but her thread collection reflects a different story.
The Stretch and Sew pins bring back memories of the Stretch and Sew knits http://www.asg.org/files/hall/2004_Person.pdf. I can’t part with her collection of hotel sewing kits, especially the one from a hotel in Sri Lanka. Betty was a world traveler reflected by the stamps in her passports (which I’ve got for safe keeping). Her collection of silk from Thailand and India, and batiks from Bali.
I appreciate Betty’s love of travel and culture, narrated by her gifts to me.
You must be logged in to post a comment.