I tell everyone I was born with a needle in one hand and fabric in the other. I started sewing at around 5. My mother sewed all our clothes. I was the only girl in school with a different dress for every day in the week. The other girls thought we were rich; I was sort of embarrassed that all my clothes were home-made. Anyhow, after my mother died in the late 80's my brother brought me my mother's sewing machine; the one I learned to sew on. I just got a new motor for it and have it on proud display in my sewing room. It is a Singer from 1936. I have about 10 other machines of various vintages, from a White treadle to the new Husqvarna Viking Designer Diamond. A number of years ago I went back to Michigan to visit my brother. He took me to see an old classmate of mine. I didn't remember the guy (because he had a girlfriend back in school), but he remembered me. He asked me if I still sewed. That blew my mind; that a boy would remember me 45 years later by my sewing abilities.