Happy Mother's Day!

Moms can fix just about anything. It's magic, I swear. I don't know where they find this magic power, or how they do it, but they can mend just about every hurt in our life. From a young age, we've been brought up with the notion that if we run to them with our problem, they can fix it. From boo-boos and band-aids, to broken hearts and broken dreams, moms have mended our hurts, our whole lives long. And through it, they've taught us about always having hope and always trying. 

So, I have a story to share. Surprised? Hahaha... 

About a month ago, a neighbor called us at the shop with a request. Their childhood teddy bear was in pieces, could we repair it? My mom graciously said sure, sight unseen. Well she wasn't there the day they brought in this little treasure. 

They came in and explained it was her baby toy, and was 70 years old. She wanted to have it back together so her grandkids could see it and enjoy it. It was lambswool, soft and wooly and truly unique. 

It was in pieces. One arm was dislocated, the other arm was simply missing. The face was flapping and the head, well ... to put it gently...was "hinged" . I was afraid the pelt it was made out of was dry-rotted and would start disintegrating if one touched it. I was scared to death to even touch it.  This is the stuff nightmares are made of... headless teddies, dragging one arm along the cold bedroom floor, trying to smother you in your sleep. I left it in the bag, and managing a bleak smile, I told them my mom would be in touch. 

"That darn mom of mine", I thought, when they left. "She's one to commit to something even when she hasn't seen it beforehand. She'll promise the world. And this little project, why, it will become mine, you see, and I'll be left using my creative juices and magic powers to work a healing miracle of Jesus on this ancient relic". I really didn't think there was hope for it. I was afraid of doing more damage to it than help, and I felt like maybe the memories of 70 years should stay with little teddy rather than perform life-threatening surgery. It's like when the doctor says, "Why dear, you are 95. This surgery could make you live another 10 years or kill you". What choice do you make?

I explained all this to my mom when she came in and I showed her the teddy. We both flinched a little as it's head flopped back, but she cheerfully said she would fix it.

A week later, they brought in the other arm in a little ziploc baggie and now we were starting to look like the laboratory of Frankenstein. Upon examining,  it looked like the stitches were a cotton thread that had frayed and broken, and it could be fixed up with some gentle sewing. And maybe a little of the cotton batting would have to be removed for things to fit together once again. Minor reconstructive facial surgery, but what the heck? 

She shared it with our little stitch group that meets on Fridays and we were split about 50/50. Half were on my team, believing we should preserve the integrity left and not face surgery in it's advanced geriatric state. The other were with mom, believing anything is possible, and while we're at, why not make it more fabulous and knit it a little sweater! 

Judging by the picture, you can see who won. 

I will admit, I was amazed. One, to see it in one piece. Two, to see the hope that my mom displayed for such a small little thing. Three, to see how people jumped in with caring hearts and willing hands to touch someone's life. 

This teddy meant so much more than just a child's toy. It was a lifetime of memories, but most importantly, an example of how moms never give up and always hope, always persevere, always trust the best can come out of every situation. You see, a teddy bear needing doctoring was just like a lifetime of my mom doctoring our hurts. Her whole life has been giving her the skills to be a mender, a comforter, a fixer of broken things. 

Why did I think a teddy bear would be too much for her to fix? I guess I underestimated those mom super-powers. They are still alive and well, even though her kids are well into adulthood. We'll never lose the need for the mom-fixer-upper in our lives. 

Love you Mom, 

Natasha 

Adventure Yarns: "Coming Home"

This Spring, I started a line of fibers I dyed based on snapshots from my adventures. They capture truly terrific moments, and of course there is a story behind it! This colorway was inspired by the following story: 

I actually spend a lot of time on the road. I think last year, traveling for teaching, shows, presentations and more logged about 4500 miles on my lil ol self. That's a lot of sights and sounds, a lot of great tunes and boring ads. 

You get to see a lot of things that turn your head. Things that make you shake your head. I remember one time seeing a homemade trailer with chickens and you could see their little feathers rattling in the wind from all the sides. Mind you, I was eating McDonald's chicken nuggets at the same time, and slurping a coke, my travel drink of choice. Needless to say, sometimes you see the oddest things. 

I've seen cars I've wondered how they are even holding together, let alone passing me, on the interstate. I've seen horse trailers, equipment trailers, houses on trailers, and questionable trailers. I think the scariest thing I saw was a semi-truck driver texting while he was driving. REALLY? DUDE! You are driving 78 feet of vehicle and now is the time to reply to that text? Anywho....

One of the best things I can see is a beautiful sunset on my way home. What this usually means is I've had a long but happy day, seen and met and taught, and now I'm headed back on the road richer for the experience. The smiles and laughs we share, the satisfaction of knowing I've enriched people's lives with creativity, and the joy I feel is a warmth glowing within me. Watching a glowing sun sink into the horizon is just another confirmation that the day has come to a close and the chapter of that day has come to the end. 

Sometimes when things don't go all so well and there are aggravations at every side, it is just as comforting to know the day comes to a close and there is another chance with a new dawn. This is when I am especially glad to be coming home.

Coming home to a place of familiarity and comfort. Coming home to the ones I love. Coming home to a place where I can recharge and rest for a new day ahead. Coming home, away from the chaos of the outside world and into the quiet of my own soul.

It means so many things for us. When I see the sun beginning to sink and clouds start to dance into twilight, I am amazed at its' fleeting beauty. There are so many times when I take a snapshot in my mind because it disappears far too quickly. But the ones I do capture show a little bit of what my eye deems unique- light that illuminates and radiates, shadows that envelop their surroundings with shifting obscurity and color that is electrifying.

When you come home,capture these moments in your heart and be thankful. After all, as my Dad says, sunsets are really just postcards from heaven.   

Adventure Yarns: "Lake Michigan Shores"

This Spring, I started a line of fibers I dyed based on snapshots from my adventures. They capture truly terrific moments, and of course there is a story behind it! This colorway was inspired by the following story: 

This picture captures the smooth color transition of sand to sea to sky of the glorious Lake Michigan. Since this is the closest this Midwesterner will get to an ocean, I still find it pretty breathtaking. I've spent many wonderful trips and memories at its' beaches in the summertime, but this picture was not taken in summer. 

I had a presentation in Chesterton, Indiana in early March. This is near the Indiana Dunes, a place I had always heard of but never visited. The Duneland Weaver's Guild was a fantastically creative group of ladies who inspired me with their handiwork, humbleness and talent. I truly felt in the presence of greatness! 

After the presentation, a group of us went for local bbq. It's such a nice tradition, as members get to become acquainted with the presenter in a more casual environment. Following our meal, I shared that I wanted to go see the Dunes. A bunch of people piped up with suggestions and directions, but one sweet gal, seeing my perplexed look, offered to drive me to the Dunes and I could follow. Relieved, I gladly accepted. 

She took me to a little tucked away beach that wound through vacation homes, pretty barren woods, and breathtaking knolls. With each rise, I could see a little peek of the Dunes ahead. When a full view came in sight, it was glorious. Blue skies, sandy beaches and rolling dunes carved out the coastline for miles. I thanked her, got out and zipped up my parka. It had to be at least fifteen degrees...so here I was in a down parka, with my fur hood up, gloves on, trekking through the sand. 

Biting cold was no match for me, I told myself. With a sky so clear and a blue so deep, you couldn't miss out on this. I could see Chicago's skyline across the water! It was so nice to see this beautiful sight, even if in chilliest of circumstances. I decided I had to have that "foot selfie" everyone gets at the beach, so I posed by boots in the sand. Deciding the sun was at the wrong angle, and thinking how much more awesome the photo could be if my feet were in the water, I turned my back to the water and waded in a few feet so I could capture the light on the light lapping waves. Camera posed and ready, I waited for a gentle wave to roll up and snap! Well that wave wasn't so gentle and it went OVER my boots. Yes. I now had wet socks and wet boots and a two hour drive home. 

Ahhhh..... but that picture was worth it, I told myself. And the moment. And the memory. And the fact that it inspired beauty that will inspire you. Sometimes life is just like that. When we are trying to get it perfect, a wave comes up and takes us by surprise. Yet we take it all in, as part of the process. The moment and the memory will be worth it. Trust me.