Blame it on Dad

The table in the studio is cleared again.  After a week of sleeping on the scraps from the green fleece sweater, my dear old cat must find a better place to rest.

Up next is the t-shirt quilt project.  I’m really awful at these things.  I spend too much time thinking and planning and postponing.  It was supposed to be a present for last Christmas, so I wonder what the odds are for this year.

I blame the men in my life for all this thinking stuff.  Unlady-like, my dad would say.   But he’s responsible for a good part of the bad habit.  When I was born, he was doing his masters at University of Toronto.  We were surrounded by intellect, living in the heart–or should I say brain–of a major city.  A bit was bound to rub off.

Another man was much more encouraging about the beauty of logic.   Kenneth Thrasher taught grade 10 math.  With a gleam in his eyes,  he introduced me to Euclidean geometry.  I swore I’d died and gone to heaven.  Please, can I have more homework.  He may be responsible for me diving into clothing design rather than into art after graduating high school.  All those pattern drafting tools!!

So, please be understanding.  The t-shirt project must be shaped by intellect as much as fashion.  This takes time.  Theories of relativity have crept into my life, making it challenging to wrestle the ideas into plane geometry.

I’ll blame it on Dad and the other men with whom I’ve shared a love.



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2 thoughts on “Blame it on Dad

  1. Sue Brown says:

    Laura, I just want to say publicly that it meant a lot when you spoke so kindly of my dad in your Father’s Day posting today. Such a pleasant surprise to find out that you were in his class. You made my day! Thanks again from your new friend from Stratford, Sue (nee Thrasher).

  2. Sue, he was truly amazing in his enthusiasm.

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