Hold on, while I climb onto another bandwagon.

The Green Gable sweater bandwagon. And here are my three skeins of Brown Sheep Cotton Fleece to prove it, in “Candy Apple.”

I admit the color isn’t exactly what I though it would be–a little more of an rusty-red than a rosy-red. Actually, it’s remarkably similar to the red in my Union Square Market Pullover. It’s a color I like, of course, but I didn’t really need two sweaters in almost the exact same color . . . I knew I should have gone for the Jungle Green instead!

I’m a little leery about the yarn, too, since it’s 80% cotton, but am willing to give it a try. It’s unusual for me to use the suggested yarn in most sweaters, anyway, and to try cotton? Well! I’ve heard nice things about it, though, and it’s a small sweater and it is summer wear, so . . . worth the shot. But not until my Celtic Dreams are done!

Oh, before I forget . . . for Sandy. Some clearing clouds around lunchtime today.

Now, I needed some more space in my closet (for some reason, I have a lot of bags all of a sudden!), and so after work today, I pulled out a big box I had stashed up at the top of my closet and hadn’t looked at in years. After I was done sneezing . . . (no, really) . . . I found just a couple, old things in this huge, space-stealing box. The catalog from my senior
year at college. (A full year’s tuition incidentally, in 1988-89 was $14K; it’s twice that now, $28K.) My old 45 rpm collection. My old, red piggy bank–still with a few coins in it–am I good at saving my money, or what? (Okay, the answer is “what,” since obviously the trick is to completely hide it from myself. But that’s not the point!)

Anyway, then I found something remarkable. The “In Memorium” book from my grandfather’s funeral in 1967, with the signatures of the attendees,some family information–like a list of his brothers and sisters, some of whom I hadn’t heard of before, a list and the actual cards of those who sent flowers, and laminated obituaries. I never knew he worked at Western Electric for 32 years, and he was 63 when he died. Or that his parents names before–Heinrich and Alma. Kind of nice to
know. The mystery is, how did I end up with this? I was his youngest grandchild–only 10 months old when he
died–and my father was the younger son. I’m sure I got this when we emptied out my grandmother’s house when she died in 1985, but you’d think my uncle would have taken it? Or that my Dad or Mom would have tucked it somewhere. But no, at 18, I adopted it and put it in this box at the top of my closet and then apparently put it completely out of my mind. It’s kind of nice to know that something of “his” has been that close all these years . . .

• Tags: Family, General, Knitting/Spinning, Sky • Permalink:Wagon-Banding //