Sometimes inspiration springs from the simplest of things. Well, more than sometimes, I guess it would be more accurate to say most times. Just yesterday I found myself at my sewing machine. The wonderful thing about my sewing machine is its history. The machine was my grandmother's. She was a seamstress. It is in a wonderful old stand that hides the machine away when not in use and has drawers full of all her supplies and collections from over the years. She was a product of the depression -- she saved everything. And now I have it. Buttons -- needles -- pins -- seam rippers -- little tins and jars that hold eye clasps, snaps, tailor's chalk. And there is this...
This sawdust filled pincushion has seen better days. I get a sympathetic heebie-jeebie feeling (like when you run into a spider web) for it seeing all those fabric fibers clinging to it. Something came over me to give it a makeover, which it so deserves. All these years of selfless service -- being treated like some enslaved voodoo doll.
So, I decided to get my tape, needles, a little glue, I garnered some ribbon, a nice little button and a yo yo that I made for another project and voila!
Cleans up nice, huh? Oh, and dontcha just love the wood and hinges from the sewing table? I do! And here she is back in all her pin-holding glory. She looks happy. I think grandma would be happy too.
