Skip to main content

Close-Knit Family

I have viewed my family as somehow defective most of my life. (There, I've said it.) I have always longed for the close knit family that loves and supports each other (like the Walton's). I have been a victim of the delusion that everyone else has what I want in this regard. Isn't that just me?!

I don't know how good that I've got it. Yesterday, I shoe-horned my butt out the door and drove on down to my local yarn store where who was awaiting my arrival? Two members of my family. My mother and my youngest sister who share my love of knitting and fiber as well as my compulsivity with this pursuit.


How lucky am I to share this pursuit which borders on addiction with members of my own family? AND how lucky am I that we knit for each other pretty regularly? I've made socks and scarves for my sister. My mother has knitted up socks for both of us girls (my third sister does not get our interest in fiber at all) as well as afghans, scarves, ponchos, and such. My mother asked me to knit up a headscarf for her yesterday and bought the yarn and a button after trying on two that I knitted up for someone else. Again, I ask...How cool is that?

I guess put in that perspective...I have a close-knit family and today I am appreciating that fact.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Creep

  Have you ever used the internet to look up an old flame? How about an old arch-enemy? Did you have the intention to reconnect? Me neither.

I Remember...

I remember catching fireflies,  putting them in a jar, as a girl of five. I picked pears off a tree that overhung an alleyway on my route home from school, then enjoyed the forbidden fruit. .I had a golden cat who chased a gray mouse through our living room sending my mother, 3-year old sister, and me screaming atop the sofa and chairs. We lived in a farmhouse and I watched Romper Room. A daddy longlegs skittered across my dirty kid legs as I teeter-tottered on a broken kitchen chair back. I played grocery store and laid out a bedroll for group nap time in preschool. We lived in an apartment attached to a bakery. My maternal grandparents visited and a photo was snapped. Grandma held Dawn and Grandpa held me. I held Grandpa's chin. Walking through the back of the flour-caked kitchen, I saw scrumptious pastries and colorful toys stuck in the cupcakes with my hungry kids eyes. We lived in a two-story apartment building next door to a large farmer's field.  That field was my