We interrupt your regular doom and gloom Lendy blog series to bring you an update on a little ongoing effort Lendy has been working on for the past 3 months. I decided about 2 weeks ago that I would not write another blog until this ongoing project was mostly completed and as of this hour everything but the crying is done.
I guess most people know that my given middle name is Grayce. My great grandmother was named Grace and being born in 1902 and without much of a formal education she spelled her name with an extra "y." It often resulted in people calling her, "Gracie" and for much of my young life I too was called Grace or Gracie interchangeably with Lendy. Remember -- Lendy is a weird name that some people have continual trouble with. I think Mama threw that name in there hoping that I would obtain or exhibit some level of grace..oops. Instead one of her favorite sayings to me to this day is, "Patience Grayce." You would think they go hand in hand.. patience and grace. I have pretty good patience with people and situations but seriously lack patience when it comes to projects, and repetitive or tedious tasks. I'm always one to talk about being sentimental and such but I'll pay any one of you little Pintrest honeys out there to make cute DIY stuff for me to give away than have to do it myself. It's not that I don't have the talent or the time, just zero patience with the process. In early December I was stalking my wifey's Pintrest page looking for Christmas present inspiration and stumbled across something that led me to embark upon a little adventure in the craft world that has taught me a new level of patience.
Sewing....
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When I first started running and wanted to give up I would remember that I endured hours at the computer working through my thesis. Working on this project I thought about the miles I pounded the pavement to train for my half marathon and knew I could endure not knowing how to sew, the sewing machine (Satan) jamming repeatedly, and my hands cramping from hours of stitching. As I sat in the quiet sewing at night or during the snowpocolypse I found myself praying or thinking about the generations of women before me who did this all the time not for fun or for gifts but because they had to. For once in my life a small fear crept into my mind that we -- us 20 or 30 somethings -- may be raising a generation that doesn't understand the importance of knowing simple skills like sewing and may look down on the people that do so for a living. I'm not talking about Hollywood fashion designers. Another fear... Would our children know or understand the significance of something handmade and passed down from generation to generation like a quilt or a piece of furniture? I know the answer to those questions lies with how I choose to raise my children if God grants me any.
Sure, possessions no matter how sentimental will be left behind when we move from this life to the next. It's the thoughts and memories around these things that count and those usually revolve around the people that make them, share them, or use them. They are some kind of tangible evidence of love, time, prayers, and practicality. Growing up my Granma had a quilt we called the "Boom Blanket." We would run underneath it as she tossed it in the air and we would yell boom when it fell on us or she'd spread it on the grass and we would jump on it yelling boom at the top of our lungs. It was grass stained and smelled like sunshine and I remember how she could jump just as high as me and my cousins when we landed on it together.
Maybe these are future boom blankets. I hope whomever ends up with them is blessed with warmth, comfort, and maybe just a lot of love. :)
These projects are gorgeous. You have really outdone yourself!
ReplyDeleteThanks :)
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