My grandma died last year. Something I learned at her funeral was that in the 1950s, she and my grandfather couldn’t afford to buy the kind of furniture they liked, so she went to night school and made it herself. I was incredibly impressed. I wish I’d known that when she was alive.
The last time I saw her, I spotted these teacups in her cupboard and suggested we use them for our afternoon tea because they were so dainty. She then insisted I take them home with me. She told me where she’d bought them (she remembered exactly where everything in her house came from) and then told me and my dad how pleased she was that I was going to have them. They have pride of place in my sewing room at present, with the photo of me aged four from her bedside table, which I requested my dad retrieve when he went to help his siblings sort out her things.
Then in January, I received a wee message from my cousin Hayley, the only other granddaughter: ‘I just made my own skirt using grandmas old elna 😮 I feel so accomplished.’ I was so stoked that Hayley was sewing, as I hadn’t known she did! And I thought, perhaps the gift of a sewing machine has inspired her! Maybe I should ask her these things in person some time… but what happened next was quite amusing… when I reported Hayley’s comment to my dad, he said vaguely… ‘Oh, there were two sewing machines. I forgot I’d brought the other one down for you…’
(Probably not as well now that Rata has had a go at the tension dial…)