There is actually a knitting related story that goes with this photo.

In 1969, our family spent the entire summer in a tent at Preston’s campground in Truckee, California while my father who was a carpenter, worked on his boss’s cabin at Lake Tahoe. Every morning he would drive away to work in his VW bug and we would stay behind and play. I remember spending the entire time barefoot and I swear my feet grew about three sizes.

On one occasion Dad brought us some scraps of wood which we used to build boats that we attempted to sail on the creek that ran behind our tent. A resident of the campground, a young woman (may be a teenager?) named Markie (short for Marquis), taught us all to knit – even the little boys. We knit miniature flags, about 2 inches square, for our wooden boats. I still remember my little brother Frank, who was about 7 years old, struggling with the knitting needles.

Continuing my nostalgic trend, I unearthed this photo of myself and my siblings taken in 1973 although it looks like it could be yesterday. The baby, who is now 35, was born at the end of September so I’m guessing that it was either November or maybe even December as she looks to be about one or two months old. It’s not too cold in California during the late fall, early winter but Karen is wearing a coat. Anyway, it’s one of my favorite photos of us kids and I just thought I’d share it with you all.

I promise I’ll get back to knitting tomorrow.

In my flickr gallery, I had originally labeled these photographs as being from 1965. On closer inspection, I believe them to actually be from 1966. Little Stevie, the baby in the photos, was born in 1965 and I can see that he’s upright here and looks to be about one year old. Squirmy little fella isn’t he?

What I remember most about this Easter is the pink ruffle dress I wore and how glamorous and grown up I felt wearing it. It felt so sheer and light, like gossamer, although in my five year old brain I most certainly did not know what “gossamer” meant.

I have lots some early memories of the big backyard at the house on Kevin Road in Tara Hills. The house is now occupied by my little brother, George, who didn’t come along until 1972. I remember looking over that brown fence at the neighbor, mean old Mr. Weber, and catching him watering his yard in the buff. It’s true- I swear!

SO in the middle of my BIG knitting projects, which are slowing down significantly, I bring you a little blast from the past as they say. Enjoy your springtime celebrations, whatever it is you may celebrate.