When I was a younger girl, I spent a lot of time with my mom in the sewing/laundry room. She's had her sewing machine since she was 16, so all of that practice has made her pretty decent. Pretty decent as in she made my sister's bridesmaid dress for my wedding, made pageant dresses and graduation dresses and Easter dresses and Christmas dresses and party dresses, made pretty much every dress I owned until I moved out. When my students ask what I was like in high school, I always say (as seriously as I can) that I didn't have any store-bought clothes until I bought them myself. There is a grain of truth to that statement.
I have lots fond memories of helping my mom when she was sewing. She showed me how to line up pattern pieces and cut out the fabric. I learned how to operate her sewing machine, how to sew a (mostly) straight line, how to hem, how to take out a seam. I ironed a lot of seam allowances open; if you don't already know, there is a lot of ironing in sewing. But more than just working or helping, we were hanging out. That time spent seemed routine and ordinary to me growing up, but now, I am older, slightly wiser, more experienced, and I appreciate how precious those moments really are.
And then my second:
And now I can't stop.