Tatted Beginings Part One

When I was 9, almost 10 years old I went to live at my Mother's Parents house with my Mother and my Sister. I was suddenly in a new suburban environment which was very different than my rural one. I adapted quickly especially since there were next door neighbors exactly the same age as myself, and there was also a small creek on the property with a bridge. The creek had its share of frogs, crayfish, and water skimmers so I had plenty to keep me busy.

I had always, at that point enjoyed doing handwork with my Mother and when I saw my Grandmother doing tatting I was immediately intrigued. My Grandmother agreed to show me how and at the age of 10 or 11 (I am not sure which), I realized that I did not yet have the patience to figure out the knot. It just kept locking up on me and in my frustration I would try to pull and pull, ultimately making the whole thing worse. Needless to say the whole thing ended in frustration.

I soon decided to quit trying but deep down I knew that I would revisit it one day. I knew that I just was not ready. The time would come when I would learn but that is a story for another day....