Growing up on a farm in Iowa, the fifth of eight children, I had the best life could offer: loving parents, a plethora of built-in playmates, horses to ride, baby pigs to cuddle, creeks to splash in, and of course, our dog Shep, a constant companion on all of my adventures.
My position in a family of five girls and three boys was perfect, too. When my eldest brother went off to college, Dad needed someone to replace him as a helper with farm chores. Age-wise, my brother was followed by three girls. I was the youngest in that set of girls. Lucky for me, my sisters were not interested in farm chores so I got to help Dad. I've always disliked housework so it was a real gift to be able climb on a tractor and head to the field or haul buckets of feed or throw bales of hay out of the hayloft to the cattle.
My Dad use to joke that he was the proverbial “Jack of all trades and Master of none.” He was being humble. I swear that man could fix anything and find a solution to every problem he faced. Spending my teen years working so closely with him probably helped hone my skills in problem solving which now comes in handy when figuring out difficult sewing projects. It also gave me the confidence to tackle even the most daunting of tasks.
My five children are grown now. They have blessed me with seven grandchildren giving me endless reasons to continue sewing. Nothing warms my heart more than getting a phone call from one of my grandkids and hearing, “Gramma, my mom says I’m growing too much ‘cuz my robe doesn’t fit anymore. Can you make me a new one?”