Charlene is always put together nicely....I could probably learn a few things from her sense of style. Although retired she keeps active by working at the Have A Yarn Shop a few days a week and another interest, pursuing her passion for jewelry. She and I took a wire wrapping class together which she has used to make a number of pieces but she also keeps an eye out for sterling and gold bling at second hand venues that she wears for a bit and then resells at flea markets. Some of her finds are astounding and now reside in my jewelry box. Being a crow myself, every time we chat I scan her for some new bauble and she never disappoints.
When she was at our last hook-in I had took note that she had gone over to the purple side. Over the years her clothing colour palette has changed. I used to see a lot of blues and earthy colours but lately there’s been a definite transformation to the lavenders, violets and plums. Of all the colours out there purple is nothing to sneeze at, it’s the fun and exciting cousin to all the others in the box. It was certainly a favourite back in the day when I had crayons, that fabulous combo of turquoise and purple was splashed across every colouring page with abandon.
At the hook-in the other evening, when I snapped a picture of Charlene at her frame I was struck by how her hooking and clothing radiated a purple glow. As you can see, she is working on a beautiful tessellation of purple birds. We joked about the book called “When I Am An Old Woman, I Shall Wear Purple” which doesn’t mean Charlene is old by any means, just the fact that she is migrating over to the purple side seemed fun. How we change over the years. I won’t elaborate on the fact that she had a red hat when she came through the door. We see a lot of red hatters around here, fun gals one and all. All I can say, red and purple sure go well together.
I’ve owned the book for years and grabbed it off the shelf when I got home from the hook-in and started reading it again. Having a leaky brain ensures I get my money out of any book purchase. If I wait a few years I can read it again and not remember the first time around. Some of the stories move me like the continental drift while others raise the hair on the back of my neck from hitting too close to home. Perhaps when I read it the first time, ten years ago, I didn’t relate as much as I do today. Now I could write some of the stories instead of being an observer to that fourth quarter.