At the start of my blog there's a quote from my daughter, Barb, whom you know from "A Chelsea Morning". What I wanted the quote to say is that the music of life goes on, so listen to this, and you'll hear it.

Earlier today Barb wrote on moms and daughters, and about being Nanas. She began and ended her post with a picture of her hand, and great grand daughter Avery's tiny new one. A picture that says more than words ever could. What a great Mother's Day gift it would make.

Barb talked about family generational relationships, how they are, and how they'll never end. Directions her brothers' lives took were influenced by male role models, and Tonka toy trucks. But Barb's calling began quietly, and without much notice. I needed her to fold her little brothers' mounds of cloth diapers, every laundry day. Things that impose themselves on us, whether we notice it at the time, or even like them, sometimes leave the biggest imprint on us. Barb learned other household skills; making school lunches for her brothers and her sister, and probably helped me with the ironing. Being the oldest of six kids is not easy.

In Middle school, Barb was so in the habit of doing household stuff, it was almost second nature that she learn how to sew and her younger sister did, too. It took a huge leap of faith in them, and I was not totally without dread, to let the two of them practice on my prized Singer. But I did. Pretty soon both of them were sewing better than I still can.

Barb also learned cooking in school. If she or her sister had had to learn from me, their poor husbands might have given up hope for good meals. All I knew about sewing or cooking, I taught myself, picking up pointers where I could. I'd have something good in a cafeteria, or notice other dishes while going through the line, and try to make them at home, but had more failed attempts than successes. But this story is not about me. It's about a fine heart and soul you could not NOT fall in love with.

In an email to me about my surprising her with the sewing machine, she said she couldn't imagine why I decided to do that. This is so like Barb, to not expect anything. But she deserves this, and more. You might think of it as a pay back for folding all those diapers.

At the risk of sounding motherly, I do believe Barb's burp cloth beginning "Chelsea Morning little shoppe" will be a wonderful success. And if I had any doubt about her needing a new machine, those Sock monkey legs and arms and bodies, piled up so high in her Wordless Wednesday pictures convinced me. Please tell her I mailed the machine in its original box Thursday. I can't wait to see what her next Little Shoppe creation will be.