This was a blog post that I enjoyed so much. It has returned to my thoughts so often since I viewed it, I felt the need to re-post it for others.
During much of her life, my mother enjoyed knitting and crocheting. She was one of those people who could knit a sweater or whatever while watching the tv, and I think almost everyone in our family received, at one time or another, a gift of her handiwork. She did the most beautiful embroidery and needlepoint and even dabbled in rug-making for a time.
She rarely made anything for herself. I suspect that much of the pleasure she got from these pursuits was in the giving. And of course she was in her element when our three daughters were born. My father once wrote to me, “The knitting needles are out and little booties, shawls and matinee jackets are popping up all over the house!”
Our house is full of reminders of the hours she spent on these crafts, from crocheted doilies and embroidered tablecloths to framed crewelwork on the walls…
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