My mom just found an old letter from my grandmother:
Your house is on fire, Your children all gone.
All but one and her name is Jill.
And she's quite safe on the windowsill.
This is the way she sang about the "lady bug."
Old time English.
She is a clever little beetle, she lives in the meadow and gets all her babies out flying before anyone can burn the stubble or cut the hay.
So tell Kelsi not to worry. :)
I'm sorry about the ice cream machine. Penny's had them in the catalogue but when I called to order one she said they were out of stock til after Christmas. Ill get one then.
I'm sending this so she has something from Grandma. I made Quincy's tights out of a pair of my old socks. I hope their dresses fit. I love you much all of you.
Mom
Her handmade presents were always the best. And because I loved them so much, she taught me how to crochet for myself. I still remember sitting at the foot of her leather chair, her pebble creek voice repeating "knit one, purl two... knit one, purl two..."
Even after that robin's egg blue needle found its way to the back of my nightstand drawer... and after the rolls of fibered wool collected dust... her voice stays with me.
It's about time I find that hook.
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