An old Gift Box

I know, I know, TWO blogs in a row in the middle of TAX Season??!! But this isn't really a blog, it's a warning. Danger, Will Robinson, Danger!

As everyone knows, I can't pass a good deal without taking it up. I was born the eldest in a scrounging family. My father was a Longshoreman in the days before they had benefits & great wages. And we had 6 kids. The house was clean, my mom could cook & bake & sew. In my family, if you wanted things other than the basics, you got a job. Or you took in strays. I love strays, especially when they come in boxes!! Most of the time that is.

Years ago, I got two boxes of Buffalo Wool. You know the kind. We all made fake Cowichan sweaters back in the day. I think I made them for my brothers & boyfriends. Some of the wool, like Siwash wool, was minimally processed & still retained it's oils. Others, like White Buffalo, were dry as dust. Somehow, I ended up with two boxes of White Buffalo wool as a gift several years ago. I knit up touques & even a large hooded, pullover sweater with a pocket on the inside for a homeless woman one winter. I worked it down to a half dozen packages which I stuffed in a box to give away when I developed a cough from the dry wool. Yesterday I was rooting around in the office closet looking for something & came upon a box. I couldn't remember getting the box addressed to me but it had to be years old. And unopened. I dragged it out, opened it & it exploded into packages of wool . . . There must be 20 packages of Buffalo & Siwash wool in there. It looks like someone was going to knit a white, oatmeal & tan sweater at one time. Or the half dozen packages of wool in the other box gave birth in the closet.