Two traditional style tattoos on the tops of bare feet, a wrench with a DAD banner and a sewing machine with a MOM banner, both with red flowers.

Wrench and sewing machine tattoos on feet

Traditional · Other · Mixed · Photo

Two matching traditional style tattoos cover the tops of a pair of bare feet. The left foot shows a wrench and a dagger crossed over a pink ribbon banner reading DAD, with red flowers, green leaves and small rays above. The right foot shows a grey sewing machine with orange details and a pink ribbon banner reading MOM, framed by red flowers and green leaves. Bold black outlines, solid fills and red, green, orange and grey ink are used throughout against a dark background.

Traditional Other Dagger Flower Leaves Banner Ray Lettering

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The chain bridge at Morrow Ford had begun to groan in the first week of frost, and by the time the carters came down from the hills with their wool, the groaning had become a shriek that sent the gulls up off the water. Old Hob Tallow, the king's bridgewright, climbed out along the spans with his wrench on a cord round his wrist and tightened every bolt he could reach. Some would not turn. Rust had eaten their threads, and he came down each evening with his knuckles bleeding and his face grey.

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His daughter Wenna, who had never once been allowed near the anvil, watched him from the bank. She had a sewing machine her mother had left her, black iron with gold scrollwork along the arm, and she had been stitching sails for the ferrymen since she was twelve. That night she sat by the fire and turned the wheel by hand, running a seam through three thicknesses of waxed hide.

"Those bolts want holding, not gripping," she said at breakfast. "Your wrench slips. Stitch a harness round the links and the bridge carries its own weight."

Hob laughed at her, then stopped laughing. By the next dusk he had cut a hide girdle as long as a cart, and Wenna had sewn it through with a double seam that would not give. They hung it beneath the worst span and drew it tight, and the groaning stopped as if someone had shut a door.

Ferrymen still tell it at Morrow Ford. They say the king paid Hob in silver and Wenna in nothing at all, because she asked for nothing, and that the two of them kept the crossing sound for forty years. The rust never left the old bolts, but the river ran under a bridge that held.