I think I've mentioned before that my Mother taught me to sew.
I don't really remember any details of being taught, mostly I remember the products: Pepper's skirt & blouse (I remember learning the lazy daisy embroidery stitch, being fascinated by the name), a dirndl skirt made with Black Watch plaid (another intriguing name). It feels like I've always sewn, the lessons were so easy & effortless that they didn't feel like learning.
I do recall the times I was sewing on my own, when I would hit some "tragic" snag -- a badly done zipper, an eased seam that wouldn't fit, an accidentally snipped hole. I would be ready to ball it up & put it in the trash, probably did this more than once. But my Mom would gather up my project & patiently, methodically fix my failure & return it to me as good as new or nearly so.
She was never a quilter, so I don't know that she would have been able to fix my latest failure.
I finally finished my Denyse Schmit's Florence top, pieced together a back & was ready to sandwich & baste. I usually do this outside but it had threatened rain all day. I usually do this early in the day but by the time I had gotten the top & back ready it was evening. I usually have Shug help me but he was busy with his own stuff so I didn't ask. So I did it on my own, a little tired, in a cramped space & ended up with a bubble-y, pleat-y mess. I wadded it up & walked away.
Had it not been 8:00 Sunday evening, I would have called Goodwill to come get all my fabric & machines because I was FINISHED with quilting.
A new day brought a clearer head. I not-so-patiently (patience: not my strong suit), methodically & with Shug's help fixed my failure. ('Good as new' remains to be seen.)
I miss her like crazy but my Mom is still teaching me.