Permission to Fail...if necessary

I asked no one. I did not get opinions. I just began sanding, and peeling, and chipping.

The old Singer sewing machine out in my garage will become a new piece of furniture for my kitchen!  Today I went to Lowe's to survey the color selection in pale aquas.  Woo hoo!  I think I'm falling in love with Sea Lily.

I can recall when I hated the color "turquoise".  That's the only thing I knew to call it in 1957.  It was the color of the tropical paint-by-number, paired wall hangings, in my mother's dining room.  I knew turquoise.  None of that for me, thank you.

Now.  Fifty-six years later, I'm falling in love with this soft, angel aqua.  This Sea Lily. 

 

The old Singer was left in someone's barn here in Oklahoma. It was given to me by a dear friend who didn't want it any longer. It has water damage to the top and is a prime speciman for painting.  I'm leaving the black iron underpinings just as they are.  SINGER. 

 

Thank you to my Great Grandmother Hatfield for her patience in letting me go through her little stacks of hexagon quilt pieces down in the basket.  Thank you to my Grandmother Sayre ("Mammy") for taking me to the Methodist Church basement on Tuesday mornings to sit beside her when she quilted with the Ladies of the W.S.C.S.  Thank you to my mother, most of all, for setting an example of the exact seamstress.  "Oh, I can make that for you!"  She certainly could.  And thank you, Mom, for letting me go through your button box time after time.  I learned to explore and search.

 

My NEW, old Singer is going right below this mirror!  And then I need to add to the wall or rearrange in some way.  Just learning to trust myself.  Wish I had trusted myself years ago.