The other day I was cleaning my front closet and came across my old pattern book of "Irish Knits." Years ago I made three sweaters from this book, and would love to make my son-in-law one for his birthday, but unless I knit it out of baby yarn, that's out of the question.
We bought this old wreck of a house in 1977. Car was working in a laundry and I typed dissertations on the kitchen table (on a typewriter). Our daughter was in first grade, and Car and I had just enrolled in college. What better time to take on a mortgage? (Yes, we both finished college, but it took us nine years. Car in math and me in English.)
I used to ride my red bike over to Ben Franklin and buy crochet cotton, and, in 1978, finished filet curtains for the house, one ball at a time. The little one shown here is in the back hall, and I see it every day.
Make of this what you will. I guess it shows that home and family last a lot longer than most sweaters, and I'd better be thankful that I have both. (If someone had told me that some day I'd take this picture with a digital camera and post it on the internet, I would have said, "Huh?") Maybe someday, some other young person will come through that door to buy my old bags of yarn and wonder why I bought what I did.
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1 comment:
I adore the filet crochet curtains! These are truly lovely and surely encourage you in the time it takes to make such a personal addition to your home.
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