I Remember Dad

I thought when I got home I’d fall quickly back into my routine, but obviously that’s not the case -- I forgot to make an entry on Killer Hobbies. I’ve probably not done some other things, so I’d better take a survey today and see where else I’m missing out. I apologize for missing my deadline.

The rest of my Great Train Journey went as well as the earlier parts. The Rocky Mountain Chapter of Embroiderers Guild of America put on a terrific seminar in Salt Lake City and I was proud to be a part of it. I gave a speech at the first of two banquets which was very well received, and sold a whole lot of books I was pleased to sign. I took a class on Romanian Point Lace, which is a thick, heavy variety and came away with an appreciation for the art of lace making and now, I think, I know how to make some of it. I went to the Salt Lake City genealogy building and delved into my father’s family’s past going back to 1679 in Germany. We flew home and after the hassle of security at the airport, the cramped seats, and the crying babies, we both decided that trains are the only civilized way to travel.

My father was born in Upton County, Wyoming, in 1919, the last of four children. He was a gifted story teller and loved to travel. We moved a lot throughout my childhood, and at last he got a job that called for him to work for weeks at a time in other states, even other countries. He always came home with great souvenirs and wonderful stories. I think I inherited both his story telling ways and his itchy feet. (Naturally, I married a man who dislikes travel and who has sunk deep roots into the city we now live in. Fortunately, he’s willing for me to travel with a friend.)

Dad was a hunter and fisherman, but it was Mom who loved sports, especially baseball, football and basketball. Dad would turn on the television to a game, but would fall asleep during it. But if one of us tried to sneak over and change the channel, he would wake and insist he’d been watching it and make us turn the channel back to the game.

Dad was very good with animals. Before I was born (I’m the oldest) he acquired a border collie mix he named Bingo. He taught that dog all kinds of tricks beyond the usual. For example, Bingo would “say his prayers,” climbing up on a chair and putting his forepaws over the back, lowering his head and closing his eyes. You could call him, order him down, and he wouldn’t move -- until Dad said, “Amen.” Mom could send Bingo after any one of the children, and the dog would go looking until he found the one she wanted. I can remember playing with friends and Bingo coming up to take my wrist gently into his mouth and pulling me away towards home.

Dad died of bone cancer at age sixty-five, after a long and immensely brave struggle.

Memorial Sampler

When I started out writing my needlework series, I was very ignorant of how the world of stitchers was put together. I relied on advice from several sources, most heavily at the start on Pat Ingle, who owned Needle Nest in Wayzata, Minnesota. When I was doing a signing down in Illinois, Pat told me to contact Dave Stott at his wholesale business Norden Crafts. Dave invited me to visit him, and he and his wife Kris were very kind, explaining how the business worked, showing me around their warehouse, even loading me down with samples of fabrics and fibers. I liked them as people, hardworking, knowledgeable, kind and humorous. Even their shop dog, a low-key basset hound, was kind to visitors. I stayed in touch with questions, which were always promptly answered.

In March of last year Kris died unexpectedly of a stroke. Now I am discovering how much the Stotts were and are liked and admired in the needlework industry. Dave announced that he would like needlework designers to submit three by three-inch sampler motif to create a memorial sampler for Kris, who was very fond of samplers. He asked that they should consider Kris’ interests in their designs: flowers, grdening, hearts, quilts, grandkids, cooking, the American flag, animals. The pattern would be sold and all the proceeds donated to animal protection organizations.

Well, they got about seventy designs, far more than could be used in just one sampler. They have made seven patterns in leaflet form. Many of the designers shared their thoughts about Kris, which are printed on the backs of the charts.

It is heartwarming to see this. There are good people in the business world.

To my readers in Fargo, ND, Wolf Point and Cut Bank, MT, Spokane and Seattle, WA, Portland, OR, Sacramento, CA, and Salt Lake City, UT, the start of the Great Train Journey is now mere days away. Tanya and I are leaving June first and arriving in Salt Lake City the sixteenth. (We’re also stopping in East Glacier Park, MT, and Reno, NV, but I’m not making an appearance in either place, but will just be playing the tourist.) See my web site -- Monica-Ferris.com -- for a complete schedule.