Kate from the "a playful day" podcast has annoced 2016 to be "the makers year" and asked in one of her latest episode, what making means to us.
So, what does "making" means to me.
I think, making is a huge part of what I am. I work in a business enviroment. I'm surrounded by numbers and balance sheets the whole time, that I'm there. And while I really enjoy, what I'm doing and while my work really satisfies my need to use my brain and think in complex patterns of economy and how it affects my customers, in the end of the day, I simply can't see the results of my work.
I do come from a pretty frugal family. We lived in an old farmhouse and had chicken, ducks and pigs when I grew up as well as an orchard and 2 vegetable gardens. My grandfather and tons of generations before that where farmers. My grandma (who lived with us or better, we lived with her since she had interited the house from her grandmother) was a trained cook, who had to make do without her male relatives during both WWI and WWII, where two of her three brothers died.
(In comparison to people, like my maternal grandmother, who had to flee from her home during WWII and was held captured by the Russian army, they had a live in luxury with enough food not to starve. Both her family and the PIO, who had to work on their farm)
When my family decided to give up the farm and my father was unemployed for quiet a while, money was tight. So most things we had, where the things we grew. My maternal grandmother sewed (and mended all of our clothing, if something ripped), my mother knitted and my other grandmother crocheted. There was canning and we pickled a lot of vegetables.
I think, that's when I became a maker. I was surrounded by makers. Even as a child I enjoyed baking and making jam (and had to endure, that the other people in my class thought I was a little odd, when I wore my first handknit sweater to school at the end of 8th grade. That was when knitting was really uncool).
Seeing, that I can make something with my own two hands, gives me a huge amount of joy. Beeing able to see, what I made, to hold it in my hands, makes it so worthwhile.
I admit, that beeing able to mend my or my childrens clothing also brings me the joy, of knowing, that I reduced the landfill bit, also makes me happy. Plus, there might be another child, who will enjoy the garments, after my children have outgrown it.
When I make things, I concentrate on those things, and dark thoughts are more unlikely to appear. I sometimes joke, that I could feel, that the worst of my PPD was over, when I was able to knit again.
These days, I'm knitting and sewing and baking.
All these things connect me with people, I sometimes call "my people", people who get, that I make my own yarn, that I spend hours and hours knitting something and than giving it away, or that I order 20kg of flour from a mill, who grow and mill old varieties of grain.