The first two sections of my sewing memories came easily - until I got to the knitting part. I did do a lot of it. I made baby sweaters, booties, and blankets for friends - never any for my own children though, strangely. I learned a lot of techniques - learned to turn a heel to make socks, to knit with different colors, to do lacy knitting, make buttonholes and ribbing. But there are no pictures of any of it. EXCEPT. This outstanding one of me actually doing the knitting AND wearing my hand-knitted pink slippers with pompoms. Mike is sitting on the right reading the Atlanta Journal, and Daddy's arm is shown sitting next to me. So I guess Mama took the picture, and it's her fault for not telling me to cover up more - or unwind or something. I can't remember what I was knitting, but it looks like there is more of it on the table shelf. The hairdo looks frozen into place, and unfortunately I still wear a version of it except with less hair and less hair spray. I don't know how to fix pictures to make them look better, but I do know how to crop, and I decided not to. Like Mike always said, "It's who we are." The messy table, the book beside me just in case I get tired of knitting, the book on the table for when Mike gets through with the newspaper, our busily pursing our own pleasures, although we obviously have company. I always thought this picture was taken at the apartment in Cornelia, but looking at the floor, I realize it's in Alto in our first house complete with the Danish Modern furniture from Mike's parents that we were happy to have and never wore out. I believe some of us still have those tables around. There's some sort of radio, it looks like, and my ever-present glass of something. These pictures didn't hold up well.
I'm not totally proud of this bit of handiwork, but it must have seemed appropriate at the time. This is Grandma with her precious poodle that everyone hated but her and their matching outfits. Debby, if you read this, tell me it's name. I'm sure all 3 of us were very proud at the moment. Gray was born 3 days after this picture was taken, so I can be forgiven for any lapses of common sense, I guess.
I see our merged collection of 33's and that Danish Modern coffee table holding the decorated bush. I wish the picture were clearer so I could see that what that decoration was behind her. I don't believe wired ribbon had been invented yet, so I can't imagine what could make a bow behave that way.
Another picture I found shows the second thing I knitted, a pink stuffed rabbit. You can't see much of the rabbit - I don't think it held up very well either - but I just wanted a chance to use the picture of that cute guilty-looking guy behind the door.
I guess I hadn't gotten the memo about babies playing with balloons yet.
That's about it with my knitting career. I did sew a few things during this time, some curtains, and I found a couple of pictures for a later time.
I'm not totally proud of this bit of handiwork, but it must have seemed appropriate at the time. This is Grandma with her precious poodle that everyone hated but her and their matching outfits. Debby, if you read this, tell me it's name. I'm sure all 3 of us were very proud at the moment. Gray was born 3 days after this picture was taken, so I can be forgiven for any lapses of common sense, I guess.
I see our merged collection of 33's and that Danish Modern coffee table holding the decorated bush. I wish the picture were clearer so I could see that what that decoration was behind her. I don't believe wired ribbon had been invented yet, so I can't imagine what could make a bow behave that way.
I guess I hadn't gotten the memo about babies playing with balloons yet.