Pincushion Love.

This is my pincushion.
It's the only one I have. The only one I think I've ever had.

I've had it for most of my life... around 30 years or so.
It's the kind you can probably still get at a $2 shop somewhere.
A shop that sells mass-produced, crappy little souvenirs.

It was given to me (and a matching green one to my older sister) by our jet-setting neighbours.
They would go off travelling and skiing around Europe, and were always holidaying in all kinds of exotic places.
Often they would bring us kids back a small present.
I don't think they had any children of their own.

It was probably very inexpensive. Just intended as a little memento from their holiday.
Just a little something to make us smile.
I'm sure they never thought this cheap little pincushion would last so long and be such a treasured item. I don't love it because I have particularly fond memories of this couple... I hardly remember them actually.

I love it because it has four fat little people all holding hands. And they're smiling.
I love it because it's colouful and whimsical.
Because it's mine.
My pincushion.

I've seen some amazing pincushions made by lots of clever crafty bloggers out there, and I often get all inspired to try and make one for myself... but I never have.
Why would I, when I have a perfectly good one that works well.
It sits on my work table and does what it's meant to do.
Mind you, I have re-covered it once because the satin in the top was so holey and ruined from years of pin pricks...

My sister saw it the other day and commented that she couldn't believe I still had it.
Hers was lost many years ago.

Thankyou pincushion for all your years of faithful service. I love you.
I hope we can be together for another 30 years!