says it much better than I ever could
I never got sick when I was a kid. I never got the mumps or any of the other childhood sicknesses – my brothers & sisters did – but I didn’t. Several of my siblings got sick enough to have to go to the hospital – they had to have their tonsils out or whatever – my one sister had to have her appendix out. I was always jealous of my hospitalized siblings. One – they got to go to the hospital – in the city – a glorious place – like Oz. Two – all kinds of fuss was made over them – none over me, of course – I wasn’t sick! I was perfectly fine! Three – & most important – they got all kinds of new toys. I well remember the beautiful new Skipper doll my sister got – with the bendable legs – & the beautiful glossy brown hair – & the brand-new turquoise-blue carrying case filled with clothes – oh, I was so jealous! I got her old straight-leg blonde Skipper – I always got everyone’s hand-me-downs. Years later, I butched her hair & drew in black eyeliner – the original punk Skipper doll. I wish I still had her, honestly.
I did get sick, of course. I got colds & once in a while, I got the flu. When I was eight or so, I was sick enough to miss a day of school & my mother went out to get some medicine & ginger ale – she left me alone in the house – I was sleeping on the sofa. That’s how it was back in the day. We all knew not to open to door to any stranger & I wouldn’t have answered the door anyway. But it was drilled into me – never open the door when you’re at home alone if you don’t know who is on the other side of the door.
Nobody came anyway. I woke up to my mother bringing me ginger ale & crackers & a cup of chicken soup, asking me if I could manage a bite. I gladly ate & then I took the medicine she had for me. Then I settled back down on the sofa.
She said, “I have something for you.” She had a shopping bag & she pulled out a sewing basket. I was just learning how to do basic stitches & of course, I needed my own sewing basket. My older sister had one.
This is the basket.
The inside looks like this:
Years ago, one of my cats chewed on the back of the basket so it looks like this.
I keep my sewing baskets (I have more than one now) away from the cats. Not just so they don’t destroy the baskets but also so they don’t get into the stuff in the baskets – the needles, the pins, the thread, everything else.
I really love this sewing basket. Not only because it’s beautiful but because my mother gave it to me over fifty years ago & started me on a lifetime of sewing & a great love of needlework. I know I will have it until I die & then it will go to one of my nieces.