Misses Needle was the name of a haberdashery's shop that I owned. It was in the historical center of Tomar, in an old house with stone walls and a stone arch in the middle of it. It was so humid in the winter. I don't know how I didn't get some rheumatic crisis there. I miss it so much...
Misses Needle explains what I like to do: working with my hands and needles. I became a cross sititch "expert" but the truth is that I also sewed some other things. For example, these united hexagons to form a quilt, exclusively hand made! Well, I haven't such a big merit since I've never gotten along with the sewing machine.
The truth is that I had much fun while making it and however the initial intention was to make a big quilt, I became despaired and decided to do a smaller one. It's over my son's bed today. The pink suits him well! And it is so funny to tell him the story of each piece. "Look, this one belonged to a mommy's skirt when she was your age. This one belonged to a grand-pa's pajama and this one to a grand-ma's dress." And he listens carefully, curious about all the family stories. He has only one worry: "Is it true, mom? Is that story real?" And he registers all the true stories of the past, building a present and a future settled on eternal values.
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