A tale of 2 sisters

 I am the baby; she is the oldest.  We have 2 brothers in between.  She is 6 years older than me, so naturally, she looked after me.

Here she is, wiping my drool, (or so I thought for all these years, until I looked more closely and I think she was probably reaching out to the cat in my lap):

Here we are in the glory of the 70s:

And at her high school graduation:

And then we entered adulthood and marriage and jobs and raising children and came together and fell apart and came together again.  One thing has remained constant:  she is my protector, my cheerleader, my guide in so many ways.  She's the smart one.  She's the bossy one.  She's the wise one.

And so for her 60th birthday this summer, she threw a party, and all 4 of us siblings were together for it.  The 1st time we were all together since our mom died.  So it was extra special, given that the last 2 years were ones of uncertainty about anything.

I had bought the Mountain High quilt kit from Stitch in Durango, CO - LeeAnn, the owner, is a friend of mine and her shop received the Top Shop Award for Quilt Sampler:

 LeeAnn's  quilt made the cover of the magazine, and it made me swoon.  I bought the kit (this was April 2021), and started to chip away at it.  It was still an immensely busy and stressful time for me at Hip Stitch, but working on this project soothed my stressful days.

It wasn't intended for Gretchen from the start.  I didn't know who or where it was going.

(If you know me, my gift giving and remembering special days are hit and miss.  

It's not one of my prouder characteristics.)

But as it evolved in the making, the clarity in the recipient came into focus.  Gretchen has lived in Denver for 30 years, but for a stint in Seattle.  She is a mountain girl - she's fit, and healthy, and hikes and skis and does so many more outdoorsey things than I do (not jealous, not at all)

Mountain High came together, and of COURSE it was for Gretchen.  That's a no-brainer. 

Happy Birthday, big sister.  I love you.

She sent me a picture of it in her house, with the red leaves on the maple tree right outside the window:

Hip Stitch goes to Mexico

 Reut, Ginny & I returned to New Mexico after a trip to Chihuahua Ciudad and Creel, Chihuahua, Mexico.

I have 5 main takeaways after this trip:

1.  Those who have little in the way of material things, give the most.

2.  Both motherhood and sewing are universal languages.  Motherhood:  when we discovered another has children, the questions were:  nina or nino?  Cuantos años?  And then the pictures were asked for, and the smiles.  Sewing: they had learned and knew their basics; I had learned and knew my basics.  We didn't need to necessarily teach one another - just sew together!

3.  It's ok to not have to explain/interpret every feature on a sewing machine.  They had their work-arounds, and that was ok.

Inexpensive not-so-sharp snips?  Yep, that's just fine.

4.  It is really really challenging on my brain to communicate for an entire week with the 'poquito' Spanish I know.  Especially with sewing.  How to explain how the bobbin is to go into the bobbin case?  How to explain how to change a needle?  How to explain how and why to use a zipper foot?  Lots of gestures, lots of sheepish smiles, but that was ok.

(I was probably saying "por favor, une photo?", my mix of English/Spanish/French.)

(And she politely and shyly posing for a picture with me.)

 

5.  I realized quickly that I needed to relax and open myself up to be taught as well.  Their sewing skills and tricks.  Their style of sewing.  We had much to learn.

The 3 of us travelers have been communicating this week; exchanging emails with photo and memories.  This one, we all agreed, was the most impactful:

Conchita with her new machine!

(see that house way behind her?  That's where she lives.)

Here was an adventure when we had some car trouble and 2 were trying to figure out what was wrong with the car while 2 were on the hill, trying to get phone reception:

Climb into the back of the pickup truck to get a lift to the party?  No problem!

(the car was easily fixed - a rock got jammed in the wheel axle)

And what a party it was!

Children + Art = Happiness

 I am filled up - with joy, with serenity, with hope.

I spent a day with 2 adorable, bright, sweet children, in my sewing room.  They are brother and sister, 4 and 7.  By the end of our time, my studio would have made a neatnik shudder.  But it made me so simply happy.

(Now, just in case you're wondering, I DID have them help me clean up at the end of the day - the teacher and mother in me couldn't have them leave their mess behind - what kind of life lesson would that be?)

But oh, the joyous mess!  There were no rules - scissors were used, glue was covering a paper plate and also little hands and a floor that was easily washable.  Fabric scraps were shared with abandonment - why do I need to keep this 5" square pristine and unused?  Why?

YES - dump out that can of buttons!  Use whatever ones you want to glue onto that fabric!  These are not for decoration, you know.  Why save a can of vintage buttons?  WHY?  Make art please.

He said, "I want to make a snake."  I said, "well, draw it out and let's get going."  He drew and designed, I sewed.  He stuffed it.  Together we made a snake:

Everything was beautiful.  Every single piece of precious artwork they created.  Nurturing a child's inner artist is a vital part of their growth.  Just as important as teaching them manners, and social skills, and life skills.

And at the end of my day, my pins were all organized - well, SOME sort of organization is going on here:

Meeting Janet

When Janet told me the story of her daughter Christine Emily, who died at age 3 (almost 4) of leukemia, I was sitting with her in her apartment, and I began weeping.  She stopped at one point and asked, "would you like a tissue?"  before continuing on after handing me one.  Janet is 90 years old, and Christine was born in 1960, so she's had a lifetime of grieving.  As a mother myself, I was hearing it for the first time, so, I let my tears flow.

I met Janet at Hip Stitch when she came in one day almost 2 months ago with her friend Evelyn, and as I cut her fabric, I asked what she was sewing.  She told me she makes quilts for the Ronald McDonald House, and I asked her more about this endeavor of hers.  That was when I learned about Christine.

I asked her if I could visit her sometime and hear more about her story, as well as see her sewing space.

Fast forward to my visit, which was a gift to me.  Janet is kind, and humble, and faith filled, and has lived a rich life full of memories, and to this day, at age 91, she quilts and gives to others.  She is a light in this world, in my humble opinion.

My daughter Claire and I paid her a visit on a hot summer afternoon - Evelyn, her friend and fellow quilter, joined us on the tour.  We began in her bedroom, where this graced her bed:

Let me take this moment to tell you that the majority of the quilts she showed us were

HAND QUILTED.  

Then, she opened her cedar chest and began taking out quilt after quilt after quilt, all HAND QUILTED.

(HAND QUILTED)

This one, above, is for her grandson, when he gets married.  I asked her how she can choose the colors/design/fabric before knowing his future wife, and what they might like, and she answered that it all just speaks to her in the process.

Many of these quilts will be given as "Encouragement Quilts" - she's known in her community and folks reach out to her if another resident is in need of encouragement:  an illness, a hospital stay.  She just gives.

Here's her sewing room, and a project laid out to piece.

We then went on a walk through her building, where we came across a little art show called

 "Nature's Palette":

This is Janet's piece in the show, called "Under the Sea", and she cites the artist as "God."

As she told me the story of Christine, she said that after Christine passed away, in a hospital in Boston, she was asked for permission to use her cells for research, which she gave.  

And that Christine's cells are still alive today.

I left wanting to know more.  I hope to visit her again.

I know that her husband Bill was in Normandy on Day 2 of the invasion.  She met him on a blind date when she was in nursing school in Boston and he was at MIT, getting his doctorate.

I know that she is rich in children, grandchildren and great grandchildren.

I know that she has a busy and fulfilling life at age 90, and is sharp and creative and humble.

I know that I just like to be around her - maybe selfishly hoping I'll absorb some of that.

Cherished friends Chavah & Ralph

 Chavah came into my life as a customer of Hip Stitch.  She continues to be that, but to my great joy, has become a cherished friend.  Thanks to the Hip Stitch Zoom group that I started during the pandemic, we now see each other weekly online (a bit more sporadic as camping and other travels take us away).  She loaned me the book Man's Search for Meaning by Victor Frankl which was life changing, we've spent time together with our spouses, she's been a friend to share creative struggles and personal struggles, we've camped together, and a few weeks ago, I spent a lovely, peaceful morning with her and her husband Ralph having coffee and touring their garden:

And WHAT a garden - it's truly a retreat from the world to be there.

A text came from Chavah, asking if I was at the store - Ralph and she wanted to come by to show me a quilt he received.  I met them that day, and was honored to have them share the story of this quilt:

It came in the mail from his cousin - Chavah knew it was coming but kept it a complete surprise to him.  It's a quilt, all hand sewn, made by his mother, who passed away when he was 19.  As he told me, he has nothing of hers but photographs, and to receive this - a surprise to boot - was emotional.

A few of us were in the office at the store, and we all knew we were witness to something very special and reverent.  Ralph doesn't remember her being a quilter, but this must have taken a very very long time to hand stitch, and the story of how it came to be will probably never be told or known (did she work on it in the cold Chicago winters while he was growing up?), but he now has something that's priceless - this quilt, this part of his mother, Alice.

And I wonder.....did Alice make any more quilts?  Did she make this with a purpose, a recipient?  Did she learn from her mother?  Did she want to quilt more but raising a family took her time?

I love to see and meet the many sewists, quilters, makers who visit Hip Stitch.  They all have different paths in life - in today's world, we don't sew for necessity so much anymore.  We sew because we love, NEED to create, because we are generous with our time and talent.

I am honored every time someone shares their story with me.  

Community

The definition of community is : 'a feeling of fellowship with others, as a result of sharing common attitudes, interests, and goals.'

Hip Stitch has been struggling for a few months, and we've been reluctant to share this publically.  Why?

    "No one wants to hear our woes."

    "We're known as the happy, fun quilt store.  Let's keep that persona."

    "It's hard to show vulnerability.  Folks will think the store is failing."

    "It'll just give fodder for some people to gleefully spread rumors,"

Yes, those are all things that have been ruminating about in our heads, and discussed, as we decided how to proceed.  Not for the 1st time, the thought of "it's time to close" went through my head.  As a small business owner, and one who is coming out of the pandemic, I know I'm not alone.

Prices have, and continue to go up:  shipping and fabric being the biggest.   When things will arrive is still not predictable & smoothed out.  I just cancelled an order for fabric that was supposed to ship in Feb.  Then it was pushed to March, then April, then May.   This has resulted in our budget being unpredictable and trying to weekly keep up w/the phone calls to manufacturers to get ship dates, but they're only an estimate.

Sales have slowed - we guess it's the uncertainty of the economy and the future.

Then the HVAC unit in the Hip Stitch classroom was vandalized - in an attempt to steal the copper pipes.  That was just about the last straw that broke us.

So we discussed and debated and Steve and I decided to proceed with honesty in our newsletter.   At the end of the day, we know in our hearts that the majority of our customers shop at Hip Stitch because they support our store.  They stand with us in our values, they understand that when prices go up, it's not because of personal greed.  They support the same social justice causes we support.  They shop here because of our commitment to positive customer service.  And they would be hurt if we just decided to close Hip Stitch and didn't give them (you) the truth, and the opportunity to help.

So we sent out our weekly newsletter this past Friday and told the story.  We were truthful, and shared that we're vulnerable.  (def: capable of being physically or emotionally wounded)

The response was heartwarming:  kindess, love, support came in the forms of words to us and purchases.  You have told us that Hip Stich brought you back to sewing.  That it's your happy place.  And so much more.

We're continuing the SALE on Kaffe Fassett and Alexander Henry fabrics through this Friday, May 27.  Two of our most popular lines.  Use the code "copper" when you check out.

And thank you.  From the very bottom of our hearts.  Thank you.

And here are just a few of the hundreds and hundreds of photo memories from over the past 14 years of the joy created at Hip Stitch.  The Hip Stitch community: