An Apron For Mother

In the olden days, when I was in the 7th grade, the girls took something called 'home economics', while the boys had fun doing things with hammers and saws, in 'industrial arts'. I always wished I could be in that huge workshop, banging away and making something useful. Like a birdhouse.

We baked, we measured, and produced rock hard brownies. But there were none left after the boys got to sample them. It took a lot of energy pounding together bird houses and book shelves. Times have changed all right, and Rebecca made me a wonderful foot stool which I use to this day, as well as a beautiful hanging unit that i use to hold all my sewing thread. It also has a pull out drawer where I store tiny odds and ends. I painted it to match my old studio, and like it so much I have left it that way; lavender and cornflower blue.

Our teacher was a bit of a challenge. She was OCD, I realize looking back, but she did teach us well, and left us with good sewing habits. How to take care of your machine too. So I sewed myself a shirt that didn't fit. An apron for my mother that she liked so much that I sewed her two more.

Back in those old days, my mother would race home from work, and put an apron on over her clothes, and cook supper. We would all sit down and eat together, laughing and telling our stories from the day. I never said much, I was the doom and gloom machine. Poor family. I spent most of my meal time sneaking the meat on my plate to the family dogs, which there were in abundance. And quite fat considering all they supposedly got to eat was kibble.

I was painting and thinking about my mother and those aprons and this is the picture I painted and this is most of the story. I did make more aprons for some of my aunts and cousins though; I am somewhat OCD myself.