What does one say about oneself that should or could be interesting? Everything is liable to come off as some sort of apology, which is undoubtedly owed but also guaranteed to be inadequate. I’m sure many have struggled with this same feeling: I am not terribly interesting. But I am interested in a great many things. The most important of which, of course, is my Lord.
And when given time to work with my hands, I prefer to work in silence and contemplation while my fingers wrap themselves in linen and wool and fur and leather. I love to make beautiful things. It has been God’s pleasure to give me a loving husband but no children – so I should have, I suppose, more time than others though it never seems that way. And I have had the good fortune of a mother who dedicated countless hours during my childhood to teaching me to be a careful and conscientious seamstress.
My great grandparents came to Appalachia from Poland and Austria. Babcia was a Poniatowska (which I like to imagine means more than it probably does). But I am Lithuanian and Hungarian, too.
I value hard work, humility, family, local farmers and craftsmen, history, order, patriarchy, old things in general, prayer, and tradition. May I do them some justice in the time allotted me. And may my work, in any way however small, somehow please and glorify the God of Truth, Beauty, and Goodness. And maybe also uplift someone’s heart.
I love dogs and good coffee and Saint John of the Cross. And typography and snow and potatoes and cowboy boots. And old-fashioned roses and shotguns and Compline.