There’s no pictures in this post I’m afraid, but I hope you’ll read it anyway – especially if you’re a mum.

I was tatting on the train on the way home from work tonight, thinking about things to make. My mind wondered to hair accessories – and then to a hairslide my mum made for me when I was little. What a hairslide! I loved it.

As a child I always had my hair in a bob. It was between chin and shoulder length, and quite ‘swishy’ – I’ve got very thick hair. One day my mum made me a special hairslide – I’m not sure what prompted that, now I think about it. It was platted in green and white cord across the top, stitched on to a flat metal hair slide, but with long pieces of cord that dangled into my hair, with beads on the end. Wait – I’ll draw it. Ignore the no pictures thing.

See what I mean? I can still feel it in my hair now. All dangly and brilliant. I thought it was the best thing ever. It WAS the best thing ever. It’s not the only thing my mum has ever made me of course.

She also made me dresses (when I was really little) an aran jumper (which she hated knitting, but was very well done), cakes and biscuits, a hot water bottle cover, cushions, some beautiful embroideries and lots of other things. (She also instilled the deep love of a good book).

Of course the very best thing she gave me, was her time.

We both enjoy crafty stuff, but mostly different crafty stuff. She does the most incredible embroidery, cross stitch, Hardanger and she’s really practical – so if there’s a need for a *thing* in fabric, she’ll figure a way to make it. Boxes, decorations, aprons, peg bags, iPod cases, that kind of thing. I’m not at all the same. I think I’m still working out what I like doing – tatting, for sure – and I’m liking learning to knit and use my sewing machine.

Growing up with a major part of my youth in the 80s, there was a real rejection of craft. Somehow, my family still had hobbies. I just grew up thinking that there was more to life than TV. Now I’m older, I can really appreciate what a gift that is to give to your children. I’m rarely bored – when I listen to friends who suddenly find them selves alone on a Saturday, or stuck in on a weeknight and forced to watch TV, I think how nice a spare evening to yourself sounds — a chance to *do* something! (Not to watch TV.)

So, Mum – thank you. Thank you for all the things you’ve made me, all the things I’ve made with your help, and all the things I’m thinking of making.

—
And apologies – for the lack of pictorial evidence, I just felt like posting this tonight.