Young man, full of big plans and thinkin' about tomorrow...

...young man, gonna make a stand.  You beg, you steal, you borrow. -Ray LaMontagne

But, sometimes, you also barter.

I was at the home of some good friends over the holiday season.  The Mulberry House, to be precise.  The lady of the house had been gifted a particular chair, with a particular charm, for which she had no need.  She jokingly said to me:  "You want that chair, right?"  To which I responded a little too decidedly: "No."  Time went by, and over the course of the day, I found myself courting the chair.  We sat together, we knit, we experienced delightful conversation over scones and tea with our friends.  A bond was formed.  After leaving, still insisting I didn't want to take the chair home with me, I went on my merry way and endeavored to put the chair out of my mind.  Turns out the darn thing weaseled its way into my affections over the course of a solitary morning and I wound up texting Ashley to let her know that (much to her surprise) I did want that chair.  Like, a lot.  You see, when I was quite young, my Grandma Alva had a chair like this in her home.  Warms my heart and brings back good memories of playing with her trinkets and sliding down the stairs for hours with my sisters and our cousins.  My wonderful mama has set to work re-upholstering it for me.  It's on its way to being grandma chic, just like me, now!


Anyhoot, being disinclined (as I am) to take without some give, Ophelia and I struck a sweet deal over the matter.  You see, homegirl was in need of something to warm her lovely little lady paws.  For the winter months, mild as they were at the time, were upon us.  And, knowing South Dakota, the threat of mitten weather was imminent.  With gladness, I set out to warm the hands of this adorable child in exchange for my chair.  I'm told she never complains to don them.  Knowing the nature of the childrens of this age to resist being bogged down by such things (coats, hats, mittens - they're all the enemy in our formative years, eh?), this is the highest praise for which I could hope.  XO, O-town!

 

 Please enjoy the most ludicrous of knitting patterns (left).  We kept forgetting to trace her hand for sizing purposes.  We took a stab at doing things this way for the purpose of scale, quoted The Princess Bride ("Think it'll work?" "It would take a miracle.") and were on our way.  Turns out it worked!  Booyah, grandma.