During all of 1975 and 1976, Evelyn Jackson must have crocheted afghans day and night, night and day. They were large and lovely, perfect in every way. She crocheted them for at least, that I know of, two nieces, one nephew and me.
They arrived on Christmas day on our farm at Rural Route 1, Brownsville as our gifts from my brother, Tim, and wife Jeannie. Evelyn was Jeannie's mom.
Blue was then, and remains now, my favorite color and my eyes brighten still when I look at this perfect blend of blues.
At first, I put the sturdy blanket away, inside the cedar chest I appropriated from Mom. But it was far too comfy and warm and wonderful to hide in there for who knows how long.
I quickly got it out and it began its long history of keeping friend, family, and me warm.
It has held up beautifully through countless machine washings and dryings; survived baby spit-up, and maybe worse; comforted us all on many chilly nights, and traveled to Ball State University with Ben, where I wondered if that would be its demise and if it would make it home. But yes, it's right here, right now, and will see plenty of action in the next few days with a big snowstorm coming in
Just doing its thing for more than 45 years now. It's certainly something I have kept and will keep, and to be fair, it's spent plenty of time in and out of season in our hallway closet, ready to be called to duty, and it has never done time in the attic.
What afghans do you have around your house?
My new memoir, There's a Clydesdale in the Attic: Reflections on Keeping and Letting Go, is a new release on Amazon in both print and ebook formats. In a couple of weeks, I'll also have them available for mailing or direct purchase. I'll mention items found in our home on this blog regularly for a while. The book is about finding so much more than stuff while cleaning out our attic. Bet you've got a lot more than stuff in yours, too.