If you've ever known a Baba or heard the stereotypes about these Ukrainian grandmothers you can assume you know my Baba. Her world revolved around her enormous garden, making sure people were well fed, worrying about anything and everything, church, and cross stitch. Everyone was too skinny. Hairy legs on a man meant he was going to be rich. Cold drinks made you sick. (My poor grandfather, forced to drink warm beer.)
This pincushion caught my eye at a quilt show a few years back. A little Baba to add to my sewing supplies. Each pincushion was different, and each had a name. As soon as I saw the name on this one, Anastasia, she had to come home with me. Anastasia was my own Baba's name. My own little sewing Yoda.
Now, the girls know the pincushion by name and ask to play with her. And Baba keeps me company when I sew.
(To read more about my Baba and her influence on me, check out the article on page 76 in Delish Mag.)
4 comments:
What a fun way to be reminded of your Baba.
Pretty cool.
Growing up in SK, there was no shortage of Babas to look after children and their friends. What takes the cake is when I lived in Russia and babushkas would accost you in the street for not wearing a hat/scarf/mittens/coat, haul you back into the room you just left in the museum because you hadn't appreciated a work of art enough, and rescue you on a mini-bus when your pidgin language skills left you unable to tell the driver where you wanted let off. Then when you thanked her, she'd scold you for drinking a fountain pop when you should be drinking milk to be healthy. I love each and every one of them.
I love these anecdotes about your Baba.
Thanks for sharing Cheryl. They brought back great memories of my Baba! (Vilna, Alberta) She was always telling everyone they were "too skinny" too! I am now a Baba & proud of the name handed down to me.
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