Lace


There was no option to leave a comment on this beautiful post, so I am reblogging it, with the comment “Brava! The truth you tell here is beautiful.”

Sarah Ditum

lace

I learned to make lace when I was small, solemnly winding my bobbins with white thread then working over the pillow with deepest concentration – twisting and crossing the splints of wood, carefully weighted with scavenged beads, never learning so well that my hands could work without stumbling, but working all the same. I made my first few pieces, slack-tensioned and a little sloppy. My older female relatives and family friends inspected them indulgently but unimpressed. They were Bedfordshire women who had learned the needle arts at school, women who had been educated for domesticity, women who could not believe that I would leave school at 16 unable to knit, sew or make pastry. “I could make this,” my grandma would say, plucking the unhappy hems of my Topshop jumpers. “Didn’t they teach you anything?”

Their lives didn’t stop at what their education had fitted them for, though, because this…

View original post 635 more words

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About Gigi

I'm a 50+ woman/mom/gramma on a journey of self discovery. I'm an avid reader, aspiring author, crafter extraordinaire, and lover of learning new things. Right now, I'm focused on learning to live a more fulfilling life, so I can spend the second half of my journey on this big blue rock pursuing things that make me happy.

Posted on June 7, 2015, in Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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