I failed Domestic Science at High School. The only F I ever received on a report card. I knew better than to enrol in Sewing Classes after having received a D, in a scale from A to D, at Primary School. My mother, a seamstress who could turn a parachute into a wedding gown during the war years, was appalled. She gave me her first Singer Sewing Machine thinking that it would provide encouragement. Never switched it on and it later became a garden ornament alongside the gnomes.
Unable to use a needle and thread the only thing I used a needle for was removing splinters out of little fingers when the children were small.
Knitting, crochet, and quilting were never options though I’ve always been pretty handy with a paintbrush. Over the years I have painted both the exteriors and interiors of several houses. Unfortunately, often in colours that have had real estate agents cringing. My last house I opted to bulldoze and redevelop after comments about my sunflower yellow and budgie green colour scheme.
(Personal Note : That’s what comes of living with someone whose life is coloured by beige).
So I’m a little surprised with two new hobbies I’ve picked up since retirement.
Having the time to explore new interests truly is one of the positives of the finality of a working life. No guilt whatsoever. Loving it!
Mind you, I’ve had some EPIC fails. Like square dancing. Who knew it was so hard to differentiate between your left and your right? The popularity of using the clocks on our electrics as opposed to a watch has only exacerbated this issue (for sum of us). And those flouncy skirts were cute when I was six, not so at sixty.
What I am enjoying is an online Art Therapy study program. I’ve done collage, meditation to promote creativity, learnt about colour therapy, created my Tree of Life, and am currently working with clay. Well, plasticine really – it’s less expensive.
Art Therapy is used as a healing process. I was creatively stunted when I was young and perpetually fearful of having my knuckles rapped with a ruler by over zealous teachers when I coloured outside the lines. A bit like Harry Chapin’s song :
(Personal Note : Probably accounts for Mr Beige).
My search for Trailblazing Aussie Women is proving fascinating. I started with names of well known women but this exercise has led me down a rabbit hole and I have stumbled upon an 8 year old who walked the Kokoda Track and proceeded to climb Kilimanjaro and Everest, an Indigenous woman with a degree from Harvard, and a lass who has been working on the Mars Mission.
LIFE LESSON : You can teach an old dog new tricks.
The army taught me how to use a needle and thread. As a matter of fact, the army used to issue sewing kits in boot camp…and they were called “a wife”. This is not a joke. Look it up.
Anyway, I later learned I could turn a wedding dress into a parachute, with or with a needle and thread.
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OMG. Looked it up – IS true.
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Awesome
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It’s all part of the “one foot in front of the other” ethos.
Enjoy your weekend, LA.
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You as well
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I am not a sewer either and remember the sewing/home economics teachers. I don’t think they teach it anymore in schools. I prayed for the class to finish.
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We must have been in the same classes, Cupcake 🙂
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Your wonderful posts always bring back memories for me – I too was the recipient of a Singer sewing machine in the hope I would suddenly turn into a seamstress extraordinaire. I still don’t know how they work!
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Gretchen, I never learnt how the iron works either. Woops sa daisy.
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I totally understand, May. Domestic duties were not my forte and irons always seemed to burn holes in the fabric. Or was it my cunning plan to get out of ironing white work shirts?
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😀
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