Today is my birthday, the 60th anniversary of my birth. I was born in Dallas, Texas at St. Paul Hospital, a Catholic hospital. Since I was born on a Friday morning in a Catholic hospital, my mother was served an entree of fish for dinner, which she refused to eat based on her grandmother's admonition that one should not eat fish right after giving birth. When the nurse in attendance assured her that the fish would not cause harm, my mother stuck with the "old wives tale" and continued to refuse to eat the fish. This is one of the family tales that has be told and retold throughout my life with very little embellishment, which is not always the case in my family.
Most of the family stories I have heard in my lifetime have been embroidered with various embellishments depending on the story teller. My Aunt Norma (married to my father's eldest brother) once queried, "Why is it that your side of the family keeps telling tales about family members whether the subject of the tale is alive or dead?" My response was, "We see no need to let a good story die just because the main characters are dead. A good story is a good story."
My current knitting projects are going well. The knitting has been uncomplicated, and, as the garments grow, I enjoy watching them develop into exactly what I had in mind when I started them. I suspect the Electra is telling me that it wants to live in my sister's closet; however, I am still trying to convince it that I would enjoy it more. The fact that my sister saw it last weekend and commented on how the colors in it are "her colors" does not help my case for keeping it for myself. I keep telling myself that if I do decide to give it to her, I can always make another one for myself. Decisions, decisions!