This paperback book has 144 pages of patterns, color photos, and illustrations with comprehensive instructions for various unique stitch techniques, including: working in front, around or behind a stitch, free loops, working in center 3 loops of a stitch, working in 2 legs of a stitch.
I also got this new book the other day:
and finished this cute Sunflower Bookmark, from the front cover:
I've been crocheting for over 40 years, having first learned the basic stitches at age 10. I can thank my Mentor, Ethel Harvey, for inspiring me to crochet. I used to go over to her house as a child, on those long summer days and spent many hours under her care and guidance. My mother was very grateful to have Ethel as someone I looked up to, I'm sure. It kept me out of trouble and very busy when school was out. I can thank Ethel for my green thumb, my love of antiques, and also my collection of assorted greenhouse-variety cacti. I remember her house, a single-level bungalow on the end of a cul-de-sac. There, she tended nearly a half-acre of all manner of roses, trees, shrubs, vines and perennials. I even remember a Pitcher Plant by her front steps. The thing smelled rotten, but she showed me how it would collect rain water and flies would become trapped within it's bloom, to be later ingested by the plant. I remember it looking like this:
Pitcher Plant |
We went for water at the Spring today. to fill a multitude of gallon jugs (old milk cartons) with the natural goodness of artesian well water. It tastes so good, and is so COLD coming out of the pipe. It was originally dug by hand by a farmer over 150 years ago, 60 feet down. Since then, a pipe has been fitted and a concrete base makes it more permanent. Recently, some heathen kids did some graffiti art on the base of the well pipe, a horrid desecration, in my humble opinion. Kids with too much time on their hands, you can never get away from it, even in the country.
It was a crisp, sunny 59 F at 5:30 pm, the sun low in the sky, nearly blinded DH. We saw one Whitetail rump disappear into the woods, on our way out. The woods always remind me of childhood memories of Placer County, CA. The twisty windy tree-lined roads, the deep woods just beyond, the pine needles on the forest floor, whisper of secrets along darkening paths.
It's Friday, Taco Night! I'm hungry, so I'll scoot outta here and come back later with pictures of mine and DH's Riders Edge experiences~you don't want to miss it!
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