It all started one afternoon after school. I had peeked into Mum's (I know she prefers M-U-M to M-O-M, "Mummy" is ideal and "Mother" is prohibited - which I use only rarely for maximum effect) brown velvet dresser, a veritable altar lined with bottles of oils, perfumes and other concoctions marked with faraway names. And there amidst the creations of gods and goddesses - Estee Lauder, Christian Dior, Yves Saint-Laurent - were a stack of cards handmade by me to her and/or Dad. At the time I could not understand why - I wished that I could afford the glossy store-bought cards (Hallmark was a lot more popular then) with the clever words and pretty pictures, not just for her but my friends too.
As I grew older, and had more cash in my pocket, I began to realise how easy it is to buy something. You could get a cookie-cutter gift or card for not very much, and the occasion would be taken care of. However much that bothered me, I was also inundated with school, then work, then life in general - so I compromised and bought the gifts and sometimes the cards - but made sure that at least I wrote a personalised message somewhere.
Now that I have a little spare time on my hands (i.e. when the kids go to bed, and if I haven't brought work home to do) I hope to revive what Mum treasured so dearly. That is the motivation behind this project, and subject of this first entry of The Sprout Store blog.
Hi Vicki, I love this post! And I have to thank you for reminding me of this short poem I wrote a few years ago :-)
ReplyDelete"What time is it?"
Half asleep, half awake.
Half hello teddy bear,
Half hello Technicolor baby daughters,
leaning on picture frames holding
my older brother and myself,
in black and white, smiling,
six and four years old,
mischief in our eyes,
on my polished dresser,
in front of the mirror.