Franklin Habit is a clever knitter, brilliant photographer, and a crackerjack writer into the bargain. Here is his most recent blog post. Think of Dolores as Mae West, with hooves.
As proof that there really has been housework [of a sort] going on chez Ravelled, I offer these two photographs in evidence. The top left photograph was taken by FirstHubby when he was living back East. He gave it to my when we met (after 26 years) on the trip I took for my 50th birthday. It’s a polo match, taken using infrared??, and he also gave me a used polo ball. Why? because Dad played polo in the Wyoming National Guard in the 1930’s, before his unit was motorized and sent off to fight in WWII. I have Dad’s polo mallet hanging in the hall and will give you a visual after I paint the hall [i.e., sometime between now and the Second Coming; we make haste slowly around here].
This is the lower half of the same wall. The photo by the light switch is one of the ones I was talking about earlier, as is the one above the framed mannequin. The doily was made by my Gram [Mom’s mom, and the reason I am Gram to my own grandchildren], in the 1950’s or 1960’s. She couldn’t read a crochet pattern, but she could look at something and copy it impeccably. My favorite aunt had it mounted on black velvet and framed, and she gave it to me one year for Christmas. Its a miracle that it has survived our many moves; most of my family heirlooms got left behind or destroyed, one place or another.
Those grubby little baby shoes that you see dangling from the pink peg rack? Mine.
- Four years into widowhood, after one year of incredible happiness and nearly 14 years of single blessedness. Have given up perfect manicures and pretty hands in order to resume playing the soprano recorder and to see if I can figure out how to play bluegrass banjo. Singing in the shower. Still really, *really* love to knit!