Valuing the work of others

I have loved nice needlework for as far back as I can remember. My fondness for it probably started when I was old enough to realize my mother, exhausted from running a house, keeping a garden, tending the hens (and yes, slaughtering them herself), making lye soap, raising six children (and making darned sure we walked the straight and narrow!), and helping in the dairy barn, somehow found time to make dresses and coats for my sisters and me, as well as knitted mittens and sweaters. When she had a new project underway for me, I could hardly wait to see it finished. I remember trying on partially-completed dresses and wool coats and hoping, just hoping, they would soon be finished so I could wear them to school in a day or so; I also remember her fitting a pair of argyle-patterned yellow mittens to my small hands, only to discover once they were finished that she was actually knitting them for my oldest brother's girlfriend!

My Aunt Jean, probably my favorite aunt if one were allowed to have a favorite aunt, always had needlework of some kind under way when we would visit her in New Brunswick. I marveled at Aunt Jean's needlepoint, which I never learned myself, as well as her knitting, her quilt-making, her sewing, and her crocheting. When Aunt Jean sat down to rest for a minute, she always had needlework of some kind in her hands. When I would take my mother to Fredericton to visit her brother and sister-in-law, I always enjoyed talking quilting or crocheting with Aunt Jean. We would sit on their front porch in the warm July evenings and work on our current needlework together. We would tease Uncle Harry that he really needed to learn to crochet, too. Aunt Jean shared several of her favorite crochet patterns with me, and I treasure them.

I guess it stands to reason that I would develop a real appreciation for well-made and creative needlework. My mother taught me to sew and heaven knows she certainly tried to teach me to knit. The knitting lessons were for naught, because I just could not grasp the complexity of knitting directions.

It wasn't until 50 years later, when my mother was 100 or 101 and couldn't really comprehend that I was finally learning to knit, that I taught myself how. I've always regretted that she never understood that I was finally, officially, a knitter. I wasn't a failure after all!

When Ken and I go to flea markets, when I'm not eyeing the bone china, I am drawn to needlework items. Often the prices are too high, if the seller happens to understand the value of handmade works of art, but sometimes I snag wonderful bargains.

Such is the case with this crocheted tablecloth above, with white daisies enhanced by multicolored centers.

My heavens, that tablecloth is beautiful! When I think of the hours that must have gone into it, no doubt by a woman whose daily tasks were as overwhelming as my mother's, I'm humbled. I spotted it at the Montsweag Flea Market last Wednesday. I asked the price and was told $20. I knew I wasn't prepared to pay $20 for it, so I started to replace it on the display rack. It was then that I noticed the tablecloth has several  signs of wear in it, better known as frayed holes.

I mentioned this to the seller, and he promptly said, "Then I'll take a dollar for it, but don't tell my wife!" I promised him his secret was safe, and the exquisite tablecloth came home with me.

I feel it has found a good home where it will be appreciated. I hope I can find a way to mend the frayed areas, but if I can't, I can still treasure it.

The table runner to the left, with the blue flowers, is another flea market find. Someone worked carefully and diligently to embroider the designs and add a crocheted edge.

This cathedral window quilt is one of my most prized flea market finds. I paid $20 for it. The fabrics, perhaps from grain sacks, look to be from the 40's or 50's. I've done cathedral window quilting myself, and I know the hours that must have gone into something like this.

This is yet another flea market treasure, a bureau scarf embroidered with beautiful yellow flowers with green stems and leaves. It's very meticulously stitched, and it's in excellent condition.

And finally, I love this white-on-white linen tablecloth with hand-embroidered flowers in only one corner. It's lovely, and I'm now the proud owner. I paid $2 for this at Montsweag a couple of years ago.

I sometimes wonder what will become of my needlework items in the future. I don't pretend they're of the calibre of many of my flea-market finds, but I've given so many of them away as gifts. Are they treated with the kindness they deserve? And will they be passed on to someone new to appreciate? I hope so.