Betty Crocker from Hell

Betty Crocker from Hell was a nickname I earned quite some time ago. You see, I am not the quiet, demure, typical stay home Mom. I was raised by your typical 1920's Grandmother and 1950's Mother. Grandma taught me how to cook. Everything was from scratch and she had the magic touch that years of living with nothing had afforded her. She taught me how to make everything by hand. No store bought mix was ever good enough for her. Nothing new-fangled was acceptable. I remember her teaching me to wash my doll clothes on a glass scrub board with Fels-Naptha soap before loading the clothes into the washing machine. The soap took a couple of layers of my skin with the dirt it removed. Grandma rarely used the dryer since my grandfather had installed clothes lines in the furnace room so she could hang her sheets to dry inside and not waste a bit of electricity. I tried to convince her how unnecessary all that was but in 1989 when I was living back east and didn't have enough money to go to the laundramat, I got out grandma's glass wash board and that old bar of soap and hung my clothes to dry in the bathroom and was glad that all those years ago Grandma had taken the time to show me how it was done in her day. The kitchen was a place where Grandma felt safe in teaching me all the tricks of her trade. The only power tools at that time were a hand held electric mixer and can opener which were fairly harmless.

The sewing machine was something else entirely. She was always afraid I would sew my fingers together or hurt myself in some other way so I never got to use her old green Singer. When I turned 8, life changed for me and my Mom. She married and went from working full time as an LPN to being a fulltime homemaker. With her job change came her very own Singer Touch 'n Sew. It was gold and had a bunch of cool looking dials. I wasn't allowed to go near that machine either. After watching my mother sew on the fancy new Singer, I learned all kinds of things. I learned that my mom could swear like a sailor! I had heard a few bad words escape her mouth mostly when she was pulled over by an officer for speeding but when she sat down to sew, oh the swear words would fly!!! I think that's where I learned a few of the choice expletives for my own personal repertoire. She would creatively weave a tapestry of obscenities and polyester into these interesting looking pantsuits. I hated the feel of that fabric, and I heard someone lovingly refer to it as "granny-hag-net" and so that's what I called it too. As Mom's speed came on that singer, she was up to 30 "D", "H" and "S" words a minute!!! I was impressed as I watched expletives and granny-hag-net flying thru the Singer becoming lovely frocks that she would wear with pride.
I remember taking Home Ec in Jr. High with my friend Carrie. We both chose to make the same shirt from the same pattern in the same fabric. They both turned out looking somewhat the same, however I had made the seams so large on mine that after I squirmed into it and barely got it on, it was so small the teacher had to cut it off of me. In 1983, I married a guy who was the 14th of 17 children. The fact that he had TEN sisters who all were incredible with a sewing machine made him an impressive catch! The marriage didn't last but the sisterhood and the sewing lessons continued. The sisters taught me all they could and lord knows they had their work cut out for them. The first shirt I made was so bad I wore it for a nightgown once before I tore it to shreds. Every girl needs a machine of her own. I remember the day I found it, my Kenmore, finally a machine to call my own. I spent hours making dorky things and wasting yards of fabric until eventually, the things I made weren't so bad. I went from a disasterous seamstress to eventually having my own sewing business. That also came in handy during the times in my life when I was poor. At times, there was more rubber in the checks I wrote than in the bald tires on my car. I sewed the girls dresses from the fabric that had once been the drapes in their bedroom and the living room. Like the "Gone With the Wind" Carol Burnett skit, they were forever after known as "the drapery dresses". I also remember sewing them stretch pants at 7am because it was faster than taking the time to do the laundry before school started. I made dog bed covers to Barbie clothes and everything in between. I started quilting when Skylar had just turned 3 years old. He would pick me Dandilions and say "I brought you some fowlers MaMa" and pretend he was building "a house for Kelsey" under my quilt. I remember the quilt stands. They were my grandmothers. Somewhere along the line they disappeared, I miss them to this day with their brown flannel strips of cloth to pin the fabric to and the C clamps that would hold the quilt in place as we lovingly stitched together scraps from all the dresses that I had made the kids over the years to make the "share blankie". I remember playing under that quilt frame just as my children did. I miss that. It is like going back in time to have your children and grandkids playing under the quilt while you take your time making sure each stitch is perfect. Your mind wanders to all the places that quilt will go and where all the fabric scraps came from.
Sometimes I feel like a pioneer woman born a century too late. But then reality comes back to me and I realize that I enjoy going with Stan on his Harley in my riding leathers. I enjoy travel and freedom that my mom and grandmother never knew. I guess I am Betty Crocker from Hell. I have a free spirit and am not afraid to express my opinions and I can still make bird houses,bunny barns, dinner and dresses from almost anything. That old Kenmore went to Chalyce who still has it even though it doesn't sew as good as it once did. In 1999 I bought a new Viking sewing machine and serger. I felt I had "arrived" as a seamstress owning that serger.
Stan bought me a new sewing machine for Mother's Day. The first thing I'm going to sew are pj's that I promised Skylar for Christmas that are still just 3 yards of fabric on my sewing table. I bought Stan an air compressor and have big plans for some shelves I'd like to make to store all my fabric collection on. Grandma would be proud, and probably scared out of her wits knowing all the power tools I intend to use. I am an artist. My mediums are everything from film, food, fabric, wood and words. I have always been happiest when I am making something beautiful from what others see as junk. I look forward to sharing these talents with my family and encouraging them to take the road less traveled and follow their dreams as well. I am so proud to see Chalyce and her limitless talent as a quilter and scrapbooker and Shantel and her beautiful jewelry and feather head band creations. I am giving Lexie my old Viking sewing machine and we are going to spend some time this summer bonding over thread and fabric. So the journey continues with new power tools and a continued addiction to possibilities.