Puffed Sleeves

It was very interesting for me as a child to look through my mum’s school work books. Not that there were many left. Most of them were first grade writing and some maths. Old pages with long lost covers, dusty and frail. What was wonderful is the neatness of writing and uniformity of swirls. Calligraphy is a skill, which does not comes without a practice. The teachers must’ve been strict indeed to make a first year student to place her strokes with such precision. I never could come even close, no meter how much gran would press me to exercise the art.  I had neither patience nor talent. To finger through the pages and admire the rhythm and flow was enough for me.
Been a sickly child, I spend a lot of time off school, sometime for weeks a stayed at home. As I got tiered of usual diversions of a little girl (mind you there was no computers and TV worked just several hours a day), I often end up roaming through old family papers.  Probably my favourite was a big album of sewing samplers, scrapes of lace and basic patterns. My mum put it together in middle school. Magazine clippings of fashionable ladies, and examples of fancy needlework could hold my attentions for a while. But one particular page I could freeze over for hours. Whole page was covered with squares of different fabrics. I would touch it and imagine how the whole meter of it would look like, and what a dresses I could make for my dolls. Nowadays I have a workshop with endless rolls and bolts. Childhood dream come true.