I can scarcely pronounce that title. It refers to a memory, probably of another lifetime. This is about such a memory; I am now so far removed from most of my past, it seems like another life time.
For many years I was a prolific knitter; the art I learned from my mother. I started in college, age 18, and truly stopped only a couple years ago, when I bequeathed the last of my yarn, all my patterns and needle stash to Caroline, the last grandchild.
Even before Jan and I left our "civilian" jobs to form a weaving studio, I was waist deep in yarn. Basically I had come to dislike most synthetic yarns available in the seventies and not able to afford the beautiful wools out there.
What to do? Make it yourself, I concluded. I bought a wheel and figured it out. Actually, I bought several wheels before I settled on my favorite, a wheel made by a weaving friend's son-in-law. Beside being a practical tool, it was a woodworking bit of art. This is the only picture I can find of me and that wheel, spinning at a show in Boston.
After we ended our weaving careers in 2003 Jan and I took separate artistic directions. She became an accomplished and acclaimed quilter and I became a dabbler, a dilettante. There were pounds and pounds of carded wool in the studio that needed spun, a neat task while watching TV. So, I spun and spun.
What to do with the yarn, except knit it. So, I knit it and sold the garments in a local gallery.
But I could spin faster than knit, so why not sell it! I explained what an electric wheel would look like to my brother Walt, and he made one. Here's a picture of it.
That is the whole lead-in to my anamneses moment today. Beth had asked to come visit and at once sat us down and opened her tablet (the electronic one). Pretty soon we were on a face time (I think that's the name) with Caroline, who had a mystery box from her mother to open.
Out came two great bundles of yarn.
"OMG, that's my old label!"
Beth is a great fan of Facebook Marketplace and one day, unsolicited, this yarn for sale came up. Probably because she occasionally searched for yarn. I suspect it came from a yarn shop in Columbus. The owner was so delightful I even shared my Aran Aran pattern with her. If I can find a picture, I'll post it.
So Caroline has enough yarn to make a lovely sweater. It's in good hands.
I made and sold yarn for about a year. Then we took in three grandchildren. They take up a lot of room, and the wheels had to find a new home. I sold them all, in one fell swoop.