For security, click here to clear your browsing session to remove customer data and shopping cart contents, and to start a new shopping session. 

Tractor Supply Co.

We Are Listening...

Say something like...

"Show me 4health dog food..."

You will be taken automatically
to your search results.

Please enable your microphone.

Your speech was not recognized

Click the microphone in the search bar to try again, or start typing your search term.

We are searching now

Your search results
will display momentarily...

Main Content

A Fine Lace | Fall 2005 Out Here Magazine

Nearly every morning, Ama Lou Daniel spends time tatting, something she has enjoyed for more than 90 years. She carefully counts loops and ties knots as her nimble fingers move effortlessly with the shuttle and thread.

Ama Lou Daniel's hands have created beauty for 90 years

By Yvonne Terry Betowt

Photography by Jean Sowders

Ama Lou Daniel squints a bit as she winds thread onto a stainless steel tatting shuttle — a tool to craft exquisite, delicate lace. Truth be told, she probably could do it with her eyes closed.

Mrs. Daniel has been threading shuttles for most of her 103 years and she's made hundreds of finely detailed lace pieces treasured by those to whom she's given them.

Her century-old hands no longer have the smoothness or easy dexterity of a young woman, but those hands are still quite capable of looping and knotting a single thread on a small shuttle to create filigree lace as fine and finely detailed as an elaborate spiderweb.

Tatting — making handmade lace — may seem like an old-fashioned, lost art to some, but for Ama Lou Daniel, it's been a lifelong opportunity to add beauty to her world.

Treasured Keepsakes

Nearly every morning, Mrs. Daniel spends a couple of hours doing what she has done since she was a young girl: Meticulously counting loops and tying knots as her nimble fingers move effortlessly with the shuttle and thread.

In and out, tie a knot, count the loop. Repeat. "You have to count everything," Mrs. Daniel explains.

Soon, a pattern emerges as she crafts the tatting into a bookmark, napkin holder, coaster, doily, baby cap or booties, or a frilly tablecloth much too pretty to use.

For nine decades, Mrs. Daniel has made hundreds of tatted pieces, and she's given all but a few she kept for herself — including one of her first doilies — to relatives, friends, neighbors, and fellow church members.

Tatting traditionally is done with white, off-white, or beige thread, but for special occasions, such as a new baby in the family, she reaches into a clear plastic bag filled with a rainbow of colors -pink, blue, green, red, yellow, purple — to tat a colorful gift.

"She made some pink napkin holders to match my dishes," says Trisha Chavanne, of Elkmont, Ala., a great-niece with whom Mrs. Daniel has lived with since last November. "We all treasure the things she has given us. And if she gave one of us (she and her two sisters) a gift, she gave all of us one."

Tatting can be a wearable art. This dress, created by Mrs. Daniel, will be worn by a flower girl in an upcoming family wedding.

Time and Patience

Young Ama Lou was just about 10 when an older sister taught her how to tat.

That older, married sister, Vera Johnson Standifer, then 21, had visited friends in a nearby town and learned "the stitch," and, in turn, taught it to Ama Lou and Bada, the youngest of the family's seven children.

Little Ama Lou, who already was skilled at crocheting, took to her newfound skill "immediately" because she thought it was "so pretty and dainty and unusual."

Mrs. Daniel's 103-year-old hands may no longer have the easy dexterity of a young woman, but she still easily loops and knots a single thread on a small tatting shuttle to create filigree lace as intricate and finely detailed as an elaborate spiderweb.

She doesn't recall the first complete piece she made — it was more than 90 years ago, after all — but her first tatting was used as lace. As she became more accomplished and learned new patterns from the needlework magazine to which her mother subscribed, young Ama Lou's tatting would embellish pillowcases, towels, blouses, and other pieces of clothing or linens.

Her father, a farmer, encouraged his daughters' new skill by carving each one a cedar shuttle, about the size of an index finger, to fit their little hands.

"It was so smooth the needle never hung up," Mrs. Daniel recalls.

Over the years, as a homemaker in Chattanooga, Tenn., Mrs. Daniel became skilled at other fiber arts — quilting, knitting, needlepoint, weaving, and just about anything else requiring a thread and needle.

But tatting came particularly easy for her then and now, Chavanne, her great-niece, says. It's also been good for her physically.

"She doesn't have any arthritis in her hands, which she thinks is because of tatting," she says.

Mrs. Daniel has tried to teach some of her great- and great-great nieces to tat, but none really have inherited her tatting talent.

It takes a lot of time and patience to learn and do, she acknowledges.

"Tatting is easy," Mrs. Daniel says with a soft chuckle, "if you know how to do it."

Yvonne Terry Betowt is a staff writer at the Huntsville (AL) Times.