When Grandpa kissed Grandma goodbye every morning, he’d say,
“I’m off to the salt mines.” I grew up thinking he was a salt miner. But he did
road work – snow plows in the winter and road construction in the summer. His
garage, barn, tool shed and cellar were full of treasures he’d found by the
roadside and brought home to repair. I still own a child’s rocking chair he’d
salvaged with baling wire. I didn’t inherit any of Grandpa’s genes (It’s a
terrible shame, as he was a tall, thin man) but I did inherit his love for
rescuing unloved things. My home has always welcomed stray pets. More recently,
I’ve taken to adopting quilt projects that other quilters have found too frustrating,
otherwise known as Unfinished Fabric Objects or U.F.O.s. I'm enjoying myself, but I need to take care not
to offer to do too many of these. Sadly, like with everyone else, there is a
limit to my time and space.
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