We went over the river to the grandmothers' houses for Thanksgiving.
The yarn for this trip's knitting began in an orderly fashion, all lined up and ready to spin.
In an effort to relax and let go, the wool was thrown into a bag,
the colors were spun randomly,
chain plied,
and knitted hard, while sitting among family,wondering how starting in the same place can lead to such different paths and thoughts, and remembering why politics should never be discussed. Fortunately we still share a sense of humor and a love for Mom's gravy.
Almost done.
