Don’t Touch My Good Scissors

This morning my granddaughter came from the bedroom into the dining room, telling me hi before she entered the room. She knew I was in there without seeing me because of the sound of ripping rags. Most people would wonder what that noise was, but she knew, because it’s not uncommon for me to be ripping, cutting, or destringing at any given time.

True crafters, repurposers, and junkers have a different way of doing things. They have a pair of scissors that no one is allowed to use except for cloth, or the user may face serious consequences. They can measure a yard of fabric by stretching it from their nose to the end of their arm. Their mothers taught them that.

When my kids were smaller, they thought everyone had a collection of empty Pringles cans, orange juice containers, and pretty much anything that could be filled with candle wax, under their kitchen sink. I saved every tiny bit of wax from spent candles and bought ugly candles at yard sales. People would bring me boxes full of candle scraps that I would make whole again. Our kids ridiculed me for having so many candles stashed in the basement, but when the ice storm hit a few years ago and the power was out, whose candles did they burn?

Outgrown clothes, discarded sheets or any fabric with a pretty pattern are repurposed into rag garlands, crocheted rugs or rag baskets. Vintage embroidered fabric is repurposed into more artsy projects.

If I’m riding in a car for over an hour at a time, I will definitely have a work basket with me. Whether it’s embroidering a doll’s face, weaving a basket or just ripping rags, my hands are never idle.

The downside of being a crafter/seamstress/artist is you never get rid of anything. I have totes full of 20 year old fabric, partially finished craft projects, and unused supplies. It will probably all stay in the craft room. Hey, I might use that someday.