This post is inspired by a comment to the last post by "Andy." Andy and I met in college. We shared a room (poor Andy!). At that time I was a wannabe weaver. Yes, I had woven a scarf and a few other random things on a rigid heddle loom by the time I hit freshman year. I had also done some needlepoint. But I was lacking good tools, good materials and, most of all, guidance. It was a weird period in time in relationship to fiber art. We were past the point where a mother routinely passed on all the skills she learned from her mother to her daughter. They were no longer important. I did not know one girl who learned how to form perfect letters with thread on a sampler. Those things were seen in history museums under glass. It's what girls did in another time, another century even, sitting in front of a fireplace making lace for her sister's wedding gown or making a sampler to learn how to correctly use a needle. I suppose someone my age somewhere was learning how to knit or crochet but I didn't know her and I don't remember anyone wearing a sweater she had knit. Although, I do remember that my mother knit three adorable red sweaters for each of her three little kids. Each had our initials sewn onto it. And yes, they were lovely. And since I was the youngest I ended up wearing the other two sweaters as my brother and sister our grew them. My initials went from CAC to WSC to PEC. My grandmother knit a beautiful afghan that lived on our couch for as long as I can remember. We must all have memories of a hand knitted afghan covering the back of the couch. Now my couch is decorated with my hand knitted afghan, but I don't think it's now a common sight.

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