Blanket Stitch

One simple embroidery stitch triggers so many memories. I've said before that my Father taught me to sew. He was an engineer who interpreted the blue prints/patterns which he used the with a small fly wheel (sewing machine) to assemble clothes for my Mother and I.

My Mother taught me the intricacies of using stranded cotton and various stitches to decorate pillow cases and dresser scarfs. We would sit after dinner and stitch. Her stitches were so consistent and I remember her often doing close button hole stitches as a fill in on leaves.

Working on these individual pieces is a gift from them both.

The growing number of blocks reminds me of Dad teaching me to lace leather coin purses.
Another time an image of him sitting at the kichen table making mocossins for his first granddaughter. My daughter Heather.
My Mom changing the bed linen and smoothing out a pillow case she had stitched with love. The setting of the dinner table at Thanksgiving always started with spreading out her hand embroidered table cloth.

Parents who took the time to teach and share their skills. They have enriched my life beyond expectation.

" To the Moon and Back"

EnjoY your weekend  . Terry