I have described myself as a packrat. There are things I have difficulty parting with. If I didn’t have it before, I am sure I caught this affliction from my mother-in-law. When she lived on a farm she told us, when she died, to burn down the shed because she was embarrassed about its contents. It contained at least a half century’s worth of egg cartons.
For me it’s boxes. You never know when they’ll come in handy for mailing, storing stuff, or burying the neighbours dead hamster. I can’t blame this on on my MIL as I’ve had this addiction since high school. I worked in gift wrap at Lord and Taylor in New York and it was box heaven. I also held onto boxes that contained fancy stationary or candy. It drives my husband around the bend. Come on, really, in the overall scheme of things what’s the problem with keeping boxes?
I guess I come by it honestly. My father could not throw away a coffee can. He’d paint them and have rows in his workshop, each a different colour, filled with assorted screws and nails. I have fond memories of that rainbow of cans.
Come on, fess up, we all have something. I know Blogless Marsha was saving those heavy cardboard inner rings from Touch Me yarn for awhile. Never know when those might come in handy.
It’s proud mama time – for those Canadian readers, Mount Pleasant, a movie by Ross Weber, is being released this Friday in Vancouver, Toronto and Montreal. It’s a small independent film about an actual neighbourhood in Vancouver experiencing not so pleasant issues. Here’s the trailer and a description. The number of ticket sales in the first weekend influences the length of the movie’s run. Now, here the proud mama part – my 16 year old has two lines in this movie and that’s all it takes to say you’ve had a speaking part in a movie and to get your name in the credits. OK, so one of the lines is only one word, who’s counting? He’s the one with the camera in the party scene. In Vancouver it will be at the Granville Seven. I’ll be there Friday night. And Saturday. And Sunday. Stop by my seat and say hi. I’ll be the one who doesn’t get up when it’s done, knitting my way to the next showing. The things we do for our kids. This is a picture of him, almost a year and four inches of hair ago.
Life's a Stitch 
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