A long, long, long time ago before things were automated and mass produced, we use to gather in the winter months making our own clothing. We’d sit, sew and knit. We’d tell stories. And boy did we laugh.
Maybe it’s too long ago and you don’t remember.
But it did happen.
When I hold a sewing needle, I remember. It all floods back like spring break-up. (I also have a few scars when I laughed too much and the needle slipped. My auntie says, that’s how the first medicine person learned how to fix-up any gash. Stitch it up.)
You can learn a lot by making things with your own two hands. You learn to stand on your own two feet. You learn a little about pride. Just don’t get caught up in that pride ’cause you know who will be close by and burst that bubble. Shhh… it’s not time yet to say their name.
I was gonna go out and buy a scarf for myself. One of those mass produced ones, you know, over at that place _____________. Yeah, they sell cheap stuff. But it just never lasts more than one season. My auntie says, if you make it your self, and you do it right, it will last forever. I think she’s exaggerating ’cause she sure loves to be like you know who.
So I started making my own scarf. It’s got some real nice colours and it’s wool. Partially. There’s nothing like it in the winter months. It’s been a while since I knitted so I had to take a crash course with a co-worker and she called me, young Padawan. She’s a jeidi master crafter so it’s appropriate.
I’m almost done. I can see the end coming like the first flakes falling from the sky. Soon we can speak the name of our beloved hero once again.