Growing up my dad had a nickname, "Andy the Handyman." He fixed our toys, unclogged drains, and mended our purses. He even stretched our shoes when we needed him to! I'll never forget the red toolbox. It's almost as though it was a part of him, the way mom's purse was a part of her. Whether he was travelling to and from home, or just tinkering around the house, he carried it often. Pulling out one tool for this, and another for that he kept our home safe and secure.
If it was broken, we took it to dad and he fixed it. Mom's pot had a wooden spool for a handle, the rolling pin had a new dowel put in, and way back in the day he hung up a cardboard door in their bedroom.
If something was torn, Mom would mend it -- if a button popped off, she would fix it.
Money was scarce for a while, but one thing that never changed is that they valued the things that they owned.
Clothes were passed down from one girl to the next, and if they weren't in style we got on our sewing machines where we made a few changes. Being the youngest, it's no wonder I sewed as much as I did.
[Read the rest of the article at The Time-Warp Wife.]