So I have to confess that my daughter can drive me around the twist. She always has, to be honest. I'm sure the feeling is mutual. I'm somewhat neurotic, controlling and I don't eat enough. My idea of craft time when she was small, was to basically do the craft for her and have it tidied up before she could even get her hands dirty. She on the other hand can be blind to a mess. Especially if she's in the middle of a creative project. Which she almost always is. Her bedroom floor as a teenager was a danger zone of straight pins and scissors and fabric. She made her first pattern out of a brown paper bag when she was four and then hand stitched a plush little pony. Her cat had a complete wardrobe sewn by her, including a Hawaiian shirt and a Victorian nightie. Mineau was famous in the neighbourhood. She started rescuing animals at an early age and I promptly sent her to her father's with them. Im not a pet person. At thirteen when I suggested maybe she didn't need that second helping of spaghetti, she promptly put me in my place saying that she didn't have a problem with her weight, I did. Ouch.I need to over talk and overthink everything. She on the other hand is an introvert. Well, until she's had a couple of vodka coolers.
She's now almost thirty and a single mother of a five year old little boy Willie. Their house is a menagerie which I refer to as the petting zoo. The sink is full of dishes and the beds are usually unmade, but in the midst of this chaos she's usually recovering a piece of furniture or repainting something to make it look like a French antique. And while she's doing this, her son is sitting at the kitchen table covered in overflowing craft supplies and creating a masterpiece. She has sewn me some of the most gorgeous items over the years: drapes, appliquéd bed covers, coats, skirts and even lingerie. She can take an idea I have and turn it into reality. She's a wiz.
And this is where we meet, in the world of design. She'll talk paint colours with me forever. She'll hang and rehang drapes for me until they're just the height I want. She's been helping me rearrange furniture since she was eight. She brings me flower seedlings that somehow in that very full house, she started growing inside, in March.
I took her out for dinner the other night, just the two of us. We don't get the chance to do this very often. She's exhausted a good deal of the time. Being a working full time single mom of a very very energetic boy does that to you. Most days she barely has time to brush her hair. But on this night when I picked her up, she looked dazzling like only she can. We had cocktails and she took home my leftovers and a great big piece of cheesecake.