Késsinnimek - Roots - RacinesA STITCH IN TIME
by
Louise Dubrule
by
Louise Dubrule
A Singer treadle sewing machine sits in our den, a
testament to the women who came before me. The date
on the throat plate reads 1867, indicating that the
machine belonged to Mémère Philippon before Mama made
it her own. Over the years, Mama bought two or three
portable sewing machines and just as quickly gave them
away, always going back to her old reliable Singer.
She said that it was like a haltered and harnessed
horse waiting at the door, always ready to go. It
still is.
Mama made good use of that machine, for store-bought
clothes were few and far between. Feed and flour
sacks came in colorful patterns, and when the sacks
were empty, the seams were opened and the material
washed so it could be made into aprons, blouses, and
little girl dresses. Sugar sacks were saved in the
same way for dish towels and other useful items. One
of my prized possessions is a twin-size quilt, pieced
by Mémère and Mama from 1930s scraps and backed with
sugar sacking that still shows the printing. Nothing
went to waste.
Mama was truly an expert at “making over” and “making
do.” Mama turned the collars and cuffs on Daddy’s
shirts to extend their life. I’ve done this exactly
twice and I can attest to the work involved. She had
a blue cloth coat that she remodeled several times to
bring it up to date, before finally taking it apart
and making something for my sister Simone or me. We
had cousins in Maine who occasionally sent boxes of
clothing, and it was a treat to try on ready-made
clothes. One dress in particular sticks in my mind.
This was a wool plaid dress in forest green and white
and it just fit Simone when she was in high school.
When Simone tired of it, Mama had to adjust it for me,
for I was shorter and plumper. By the time I was a
senior in high school, Mama had remade it into a
pleated skirt and vest which I wore proudly. 
Several
years later I remade the fabric into matching skirts
with bibs and suspenders for our daughters when they
were little. Even after that, the skirts went to
friends in Philadelphia for their own two little
girls.
Mama haunted rummage sales and bought winter coats and
jackets for a dollar or less. I helped her take them
apart and clean the wool pieces carefully so that they
could be turned to the other side and remade into
something new. The scraps were cut into neat three
or four inch squares and sewn together to make large
patchwork quilt, and this was backed with lengths of
flannel and tied at intervals with colorful bits of
yarn. These spent the warm months in the large cedar
box; but with the first swirling snows of the long
Vermont winters, they were spread on our beds to ward
off the cold that crept into our rooms and left snow
on the inside windowsills and frosty patterns on the
window panes.
I started school in dresses from feed sacks, as did my best friend Alice Faye, and we often had dresses from the same fabric pattern. Mama sewed for herself as well as for me and Simone, and even made clothes for our dolls. Besides everyday clothing, she fashioned attractive Easter outfits and prom dresses. She even made my wedding dress from brocade that was ordered from the Sears Roebuck catalog. Mama made curtains, pillow cases, slip covers and other household items. That Singer never tired. And when her scrap boxes began to overflow, it was time to make a small quilt or sofa pillows in quilt patterns. One Christmas she presented me with quilted robe made in the haphazard crazy quilt style, each little piece lovingly embroidered with fancy stitches.
Alice Faye’s mother did tatting, producing yards of
beautiful picot lace edging for Alice’s dress collars.
Mama did lovely delicate embroidery, so my white
collars bore flowers that matched the colors of the
material. 
Mama embroidered dresser scarves and sets
of antimacassars for the backs and arms of couches and
chairs, and then she crocheted shell edgings around
the pieces. I have some of those dresser scarves,
still pretty and in use.
Mama’s crochet hook stayed busy. With crochet cotton she made doilies in the popular pineapple pattern, or some with ruffled edges that looked best when heavily starched and ironed. At one point she started making squares to turn into a tablecloth, but that grew tiresome so the squares became placemats. Yes, I have a couple of those, too. With fine yarn, Mama made many little dresses for the new babies in the neighborhood. She and Jeannine Mayhew from next door compared designs and invented new patterns that included crocheted eyelet trim for narrow ribbon to be passed through. Booties and matching bonnets were made by the dozens for Church bazaars.
Mama had knitting needles in every size and style,
from ordinary straight ones to short double-pointed
ones, and even long, flexible double-pointed ones for
knitting in the round. 
She turned out pairs of
mittens and matching scarves for Christmas presents,
socks to keep toes warm in the winter, and sweaters
that belied their home-made origins.
As with the fabric scraps, the left-over bits of yarn
were corralled and turned into colorful afghans,
usually for gifts. These were made in the ripple or
granny square pattern, and there was one on the back
of everyone’s couch, ready just in case a nap sneaked
up on you.
After Mama passed away in 1992, we went through the big cedar box and found a treasure trove. It was filled with products of her tireless hands, and so many of those items carried special memories. We made sure to share some of these things with several of our Canadian cousins so they would have keepsakes of their Aunt Claurida.
Mama passed on her knowledge with needles of all kinds. I sewed for our girls from cradle through college and beyond, and that included unique wedding dresses. I’ve knit numerous sweaters, a dozen pair of socks, and a few pair of mittens. After I learned to read printed directions, afghans were crocheted in a variety of patterns. These days my embroidery is restricted to large counted cross pieces. And quilts? Like Mama, I’ve kept all my sewing scraps and I have an album full of pictures of the quilts I’ve made over the years. Many of them are in a particular color scheme for a special person, but my favorites are the true ‘scrap’ quilts in any number of patterns. Somehow, in cutting and sewing all those tiny pieces, I feel connected to the past. I’m carrying on the tradition that was born of necessity, mingled with the desire to create something pretty.
Késsinnimek - Roots - Racines
Copyright © 2003 & 2004 & 2005 & 2006 & 2007 Norm Léveillée
© Tous droits réservés
Created 1 Feb 2003