Day 75: Having learned most of my needlearts from my grandmother, I went to work as an art-needlework consultant not long after my 18th birthday. I made it clear to my employer that whatever other skills I might have, I did not know how to tat. I'd tried to teach myself to no avail (and since have learned that I was making the mistake most beginners make of getting the knot in the wrong thread). I was fortunate in that another of the employees was an expert tatter and even more to her credit, she was a patient teacher. She took my hands in hers and stepped me through the motions, explaining how the knot was transferred from one thread to the other so that the ring could be tightened when the sequence of double-stitches was complete. The tatting mystery was solved.
There weren't many patterns available in those days, but my husband's grandmother had a stash from the 1930s-1940s. She and I got along famously because of our shared interest in needlework. When she moved into an elder-care facility, she gave me her books. When she passed away, her incomplete projects came into my hands and were tucked away for safekeeping as heirlooms. Two of the edgings above are hers: the off-white piece and the aqua/yellow. The brown and orange are mine, including the hemstitching on the handkerchief. Can you tell? I thought not. Tatting is a timeless art.
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