When I made the quilt for Spencer it brought back a flood of high school memories. You see, I saved all my elective classes for my senior year so I could have an easy and relaxed exit from high school. Two of my favorite electives were taught by Mrs. Ferron. Sweet Mrs. Ferron helped me learn how to make my first quilt in her sewing class. Then in child development she freaked me out as she lectured on epidurals and Spina Bifida. She was Woods Cross's adorable grandma figure who patiently attempted to mold every high school girl into the perfect little homemaker.
Flash forward to 2011. I've shown you a glimpse of my new sewing obsession. The obsession that has caused me to have fond memories of my days with Mrs. Ferron. The obsession that has caused me to "accidentally take a wrong turn into the fabric store's parking lot" -- or at least that's how I explain it to Jeff.
A few days ago I was rummaging through fabrics, waiting for one of them to speak to me. You know, like on Project Runway or something. Fabrics speak to me now. Now that I'm an aspiring sewer...perhaps seamstress is a better word for what I am aspiring to be.
A fabric finally spoke. And just in time because had it spoken one second later I would have missed the opportunity to be waiting in line behind Mrs. Ferron. Okay, I don't know if it was really her, but it looked a lot like her. I didn't say anything to her because it's been almost 5 years since I've seen her and I can only imagine there are a few Mrs. Ferron look-a-likes out there.
But Mrs. Ferron or not, it made me laugh because I realized her classes of child development and sewing might have been my most influential classes of all my education as I was standing in the fabric store with my baby. I guess high school wasn't a total waste of time. Or I've just reverted back to my high school self. Either way, props to Mrs. Ferron.
1 comment:
I never grow tired of your essays. Another great one.
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