As I mentioned on Instagram this weekend, we bought a new house this spring and plan to officially move in within the next few weeks. It’s absolutely perfect for us, from the close proximity to our current home, to its size, to the charming interior details (retro blue tile! knotty pine paneling!)…and as my friend Anne pointed out, the most important aspect: we’re one mile closer to the beach.
As the reality of moving (and setting up a whole new house) begins to sink in, I find myself becoming more and more excited. There are, of course, things to be done over time (it was built in 1975,) but it was extremely well-cared for and absolutely move-in ready. The house’s style is quite the opposite of our current home and aesthetic (mid-century modern vs. farmhouse cottage,) but after living in the same home for 13 years, Curt and I have both decided we’re up for the challenge.
About a month ago, we were talking about replacing the shower in the master bathroom and he announced, “You know what? I’m going to learn how to tile.” To which I responded, “And you know what I’m going to learn how to do? Weave!” We both looked at each other and laughed and it dawned on both of us at the exact same time: we’re Makers.
When I think about what I want my home to look like, or feel like, or be like, I think about the things in it. Of course I think about my family, and the friends we’ll have over, and the food we’ll cook, and the stories we’ll tell, and even my kitters Sal snoozing on the couch, but if I’m being entirely honest, I’m thinking about the things. The things I’ve inherited (the Madonna and child etching my grandmother brought back from Greece, the Ukrainian pysanka given to me by one of my college professors, the quilt my friend Sarah made for Sasha when she was born)–and the people who held them in their hands. I love being surrounded by lovely, handmade pieces: the honey-dipper we bought on our trip to Shaker Village, the Daisychain crewelwork sampler that, as a complete novice, took me over a year to complete, the polka-dot yarn bowl my non-knitting sister bought from a ceramicist on Etsy for my 28th birthday. It may seem trite to non-creatives to put so much weight behind household goods (and there certainly is a fine line between collecting and hoarding, ahem,) but when you are a Maker, there truly is a magnetism behind beautiful things.
Something I’ve been aching to make for years is the Rainbow Quilt by Rae Hoekstra for Windham Fabrics with the iconic Briar Rose collection by Heather Ross. I bought the kit from Crimson Tate more than two years ago and this summer, I’m finally going to make this stunning (yet simple!) quilt for Sasha’s first big girl bed.
(photo courtesy of Windham Fabrics)
It’s hard to describe, but when you’re a mother and a Maker, the drive to create for your children is almost insuppressible. Last weekend at our Plucky Knitter trunk show, I bought much, much more yarn than I probably should have–all to knit cozy sweaters for my daughter and her new sibling on the way. I couldn’t help it–for nights on end, my ideas were literally waking me up, and I was hopping on to Ravelry at 3 o’clock in the morning, researching, planning, dreaming of the beautiful things I would make with my hands for the most precious people in my life. And I hope, as my daughter grows up with parents who build and plant and knit and spin and weave and quilt, that we’ll pass on at least a little of our love of making to her, too.