Bad knitting pictures and silly memories.

The camera is charged, but I cannot vouch for the quality of the pictures. Picture quality on this camera is directly related to the quality of the camera user, and using this camera is not my forte. Later today I will have my trusty camera again by my side and I will once again ride the wind with decent photos.
Summer chevron top.Elizabeth Zimmerman's Knitting Workshop practise knitting.

Fun knitting for the store.

These are my most recent knits, not one of which I worked on last evening.

We generally don't eat dinner till 7:30 p.m. or 8:00, and after dinner last night we just all sat around and chatted and talked and made fun of each other. Times like this, usually brings up old memories, mostly of silly things.

Over the years, my boys have gotten all sorts of interesting things from their paternal grandmother. She was very much into giving the kids something she made for Christmas, and her being a child in the 30's made her incredibly thrifty. One year, she made each of the grandchildren little stools. The stools were made of 7 empty 19 oz soup cans and were padded and upholstered. They were just like the grownup versions she had made the year before for the daughters in law out of coffee cans. A quick Internet search leads me to this link, exactly like it (you can find everything on the Internet).

Anyway, the boys used them when they were very small to sit on in front of the TV, to roll across the room, to stack and all other manner of silly small boy games. When they outgrew a thing the size of a soup can, I put them in a garage sale as we approached yet another move. They were a great seller. They were upholstered in nice fabrics, and they really were just the right size for little boys and girls. I made 15 bucks from the 3, but my desire to be rid of things that no longer fit with the stage of life the boys were at, has landed me with a heinous label.

No matter what I bring forth in my defense, the label sticks. That his 12 year old behind could no longer fit on a stool meant for a 4 year old, that the sewing was coming apart, that no one had used them as anything other than a bomb for years, none of these are adequate defence against the label he has coined. (The way he says it, you'd think I sold his best friend)

I will always be branded a stool seller.

But only after family dinners when there is much wine and more laughter. Ach, maybe you had to be there.