My grandmother was Miss Essie Mae DeVille. My mama named me Essie Lynn and if you're from the South, you know we were called by both names. As a young girl, I wasn't very fond of my name because most kids would call me Elsie (you remember the cow, right?). It wasn't until my late teens and early twenties that I came to appreciate and love my name; mostly because of the sentiment and the legacy it represented.
My maw maw was known around our part of the sticks as Miss Essie. Some people called her Miss Essie Mae, but those who were really close just called her Miss Essie.
She died in 1996 from lung cancer. I swear that woman was the strongest woman I've ever known. For goodness' sake, she drove herself to and from chemotherapy at the young age of 74 and fought for every day she had.
She started teaching me how to crochet when I was only 5 years old and I just love being able to carry on her tradition. Every time I crochet, I remember the days she sat in her chair with balls of yarn in a basket at her feet; creating some of the most beautiful (and sometimes quite eclectic and quirky) items I've ever seen. From the beautiful afghans to the frilly doorknob jingles of Christmases past to the little dress and bloomer potholders that hang in my office this very day. Everything she created was made with love and the tenderest of care.
I miss my MawMaw very much, but I know that she is with me, in every stitch I make, holding my hand and guiding me.
Most of what you will find here are the very patterns she used; some written, some made up. All made with love, by Miss Essie.
Thank you so much for stopping in. Please let me know if I can help you.
Essie Lynn