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My mother made clothes and stitched and I always remember the sound of the scissors on her 1962 McIntosh dining table cutting out patterns. App she made a lovely two piece when I was four or five and had it lying out on said table - and I can actually remember trying to cut with the heavy scissors - mum’s memory is that I cut into the finished two piece.. ruined it 😱 all I can recall is that it took two hands to hold the scissors and the frustration of not cutting a straight line like she did. True story. It was the seed tho. My dad made stuff too, he was an architect and forever sketching and building things in the garage - no way to escape it. It poured micro-gro onto the seed and that’s the once upon a time.. it’s my peaceful thing and I get paid for it in money, friendship and an ability to make.

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