Nostalgic

This is my sewing machine. (or her exact replica because I don't have a picture handy) Say hello.

She's heavy, she's complicated and she smells funny.

And I love it!

I inherited her from my grandmother when she passed away. I was so excited to have my own machine. And an honest-to-goodness Bernina at twenty one! Too good to be true.

She smells like an old lady. My grandmother to be exact. It's a lovely, warm, comfortable smell that makes me tear up as I'm sewing.

She has been locked away for over a year because I couldn't find her manual. Now, THAT is something I need to take a picture of! It tells me where all the very-un-automatic knobs are supposed to be for each stitch, complete with Grandma's chicken scratch notes and sample fabrics of each stitch. It's lovely and priceless.

And this week, I found the manual, broke out the Bernina and started to sew in the comfort of my own home.

It was a busy, productive and thoroughly lovely week.

My dining room table has been overtaken. I've almost finished five dresses. Two made their debut at church today! Two more are hoping to be done for the trip to Denver.

With my Bernina smoothly sewing after forty years, I did a lot of pondering and remembering this week.

I thought of my husband's grandpa who we are going to Denver to honor this week.

I thought of his goodness and continual sweet approval of his grandson.

I thought of my own grandfathers.

My Grandpa Tobler who passed away so painfully and slowly that we were excited for him to be in a place where he would be comfortable and at peace.

My Grandpa Manwaring, who has been gone for fifteen years, who went so suddenly that I was insulted. I have thought of him often as I have mourned for my husband's cousins who had no warning that Grandpa Bob wouldn't make it home from his vacation.

I thought of my sweet babies.

I thought of the sweet blessings they are in my life.

I remembered the purpose that I have to protect and teach them.

And I promised to do better.