Mr. Monkey was cleaning out the attic the other day (which has been way overdue and I was avoiding this task) and dropped an old garbage bad in the kitchen and mentioned to me that he thought it was something I might want to go through.
Of course I dreaded it, thinking a myriad of thoughts about its contents and so a few days later I got a chance to grit my teeth and upend the bag. Boy was I surprised! Inside were a couple of shawls and afghans Mr. Monkey’s Grandmother had crocheted.
I had hoped some of her handiwork existed, I knew she crocheted, but no one in the family could tell me where any of her creations were. Shear joy – I couldn’t wait to wash them and give them a bit of sunshine.
I had no trouble getting volunteers to help model our new-found textile heirlooms. Grandma loved to crochet in acrylic and I have always been amazed with the color choices. Grandma was blinded in her teens, so I’m sure she had help picking the colors, but no one told Grandma how to do anything and I knew she always had impeccable taste.
We are so lucky to have discovered these treasures and look forward to snuggling up with them.