Something Old to Me Is New Again

I'd like to share a little bit of me with you, if that's acceptable?

When I was 16, I quite school. Not the best move on my part I admit.

However,  as it happened, it allowed me to apprentice with my Dad and work along side 

both of my parents for a number of cherished years.

My Dad is a goldsmith and he offered to apprentice me when the reality

of my scholastic decision came full circle, and believe me, that didn't take long!

And so began my journey. I watched, he taught. That's how he was trained in Germany.

My Mom observed this for a couple of weeks and finally had to speak up.

"The best way to learn, is to let her get her hands dirty!"

Dad agreed, and I rarely sat on the sidelines after that. 

I love different.

 I love working with my hands. 

I love metal and stones.

 I love the feel of the tools in my hands.

 I enjoy the questioning look on people's faces when they asked what I did as a job,

and how the look would change from quizzical to amazed when I explained just what I did.

I was passionate about what I was doing.

We worked and laughed together in our little shop for 16 years.

The decision to close the shop was a hard one, economics dictated.

My parents retired and pulled up stakes. They headed to Arizona for their first winter.

I continued on but in my home, and my customers followed me.

New customers contacted me, I was a busy gal. I moved into my parent's home

and people still came. Things were good, heck things were great!

Then my Mom became ill and died 50 days after they had arrived in Arizona.

Everything came to a stand still in my life. I couldn't move. 

I had lost my best friend.

My Dad came and lived with us until the next spring, then he moved east to be close to my brother.

After much deliberation, I decided that I needed to be with my family

more than the partner I had at the time. 

I went east as well and during the eight months I was there,  began to breathe again.

A coworker of my SIL asked about a customized broach.

 Then a couple wanted new wedding rings crafted just for them.

Before I knew it I was setting up shop once again in my Dad's storage room,

and the work just kept on coming.

I moved back out west when my Dad decided he wasn't cut out for any more eastern winters

and my brother accepted a transfer west as well.

I got married.

I stopped goldsmithing.

 I got divorced.

I met Phil.

I had two strapping boys.

However, something has been nagging at me lately.

I had an epiphany!

I pulled out some of my tools my Dad had given me.

I started to play and it felt good.

Hell, it felt great!!

So, I am going to transform my space upstairs for not only sewing but for

my smithing so I can make more of this

and this

I'm really looking forward to setting all the wheels in motion.

I have missed this feeling and I have missed this connection to my past.

Besides, my youngest is showing an interest. Maybe the tradition will carry on.

(he will be staying in school though)