I love handmade gifts. I adore one of a kind works of art, whatever that art might be: fiber, paint, sewing, paper, etc. So about 10 years ago (for those who know our family that is when we had only two children) when I was given a knitted blanket from a friend of the family's grandma that she made specifically for me, I was beyond thrilled. My own special blankie! Add to this the fact that she had never, ever had met me....made it even more special.
Soon after getting the blankie I came down with some weird illness that woke me up in the middle of the night with a spinning head and resulting vomiting. I tried to wake Phil but when he wouldn't budge I realized I probably should let him sleep since it was a work night. I crawled out to the couch, dragging my blankie with me and wrapped myself tight. It was the only thing I had to hold onto and honestly, the blankie and I, we bonded. It saw me through the pukiest night I ever did have. I hope.
I wrote this story in the thank you note I sent our friend's grandma and it moved her to tears.
SO...WHEN....my kids chopped holes in said blankie I hit the roof. I've been meaning to repair it. I wanted to make it perfect. I wanted to learn the stitch she used. I wanted the right yarn. I wanted to make it seamless. As you can guess, with these specifications nothing ever got accomplished.
Yesterday I looked at the blanket and I couldn't stand the holes anymore. Today, I stitched them up with a different colored yarn. It's far from perfect. In fact, it looks like Frankenstein. Hence the title. It is sort of like a patchwork blanket....except with yarn.
I gained a grandmother who I never got to meet. She now rests in Heaven. That blanket has comforted me through bad times and kept me joyfully toasty during good times. Somethings you just don't get rid of---they're worth fixing up in whatever crazy way we can.
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