I haven't posted pictures and I haven't revealed any of my new projects or wild ideas to occupy my time. On our way home from re-decking our cottage over Labor Day weekend, I received a call that my grandfather had fallen and was in the hospital. Over the course of a week of visits and helping him sip drips of water from a spoon, his condition worsened and this past Friday morning, he passed away. He was a creative man who had written a couple of articles for photographic magazines, raised orchids and various other plants in his greenhouse and laughed about my knitting as an old lady activity. Despite my efforts to convince him of the "hipness" of fibers, he still thought that I was prematurely aging.
Bennie, (or Grandpa Pinky as I named him as a child for the puppy that he had), lived to a good age, almost 94 years old. I was his first grandchild, and took his passage a bit hard. As the week moves on and I get around to sorting through the enormous mess in my house from a summer of neglect, I will hopefully get around to posting some pictures and pick up the needles that have been calling my name.
They don’t really talk to me anymore
3 days ago