Many (many) years ago when I was pregnant with my daughter I was given three baby blankets.

The first arrived from my Mother – in – Law, a machine knitted white acrylic blanket. “You can put it straight in the washing machine, no special care needed” she added. I loved that knitting machine, the ability to whip up a garment in no time, I’m hoping it will find it’s way to me one day.

The second and third arrived from my best friend, “M” with whom I’ve sadly lost touch. One, a knitted blanket she had made for her fist baby  and the other, in crochet, had been made for her youngest son by my Dad.

Sadly, by the time I produced a Grandchild Dad’s crochet days were over, so this hand me down was extra special.

These blankets were used and loved, moved house with us and now reside in ziploc bags under my bed. Whenever a baby visits they are pulled out and the little one is allowed to lie on them and gurgle up at the adoring adults.

OK, so none of these three will win prizes for the most luxurious yarn used or the most complicated stitch pattern.  But, they were made with affection and given in a spirit of generosity, two things you just can’t buy at your  Local Yarn Store.

“Ah”, I hear you say “That’s only three, what about the fourth, the one you promised us . Did you forget or miscount?”

No, it’s just the fourth baby blanket is still on the hook. My contribution to a collection I would call true “Heirloom Blankets”. It’s destined for a friend of a friend. No fancy stitches, just a rather large Granny Square, crocheted in organic cotton for a summer baby. I hope it will carry on the tradition to another generation. A simple gift made with care means far more to me than any fancy designer label.

(Shoes   and handbags excepted, of course!)

Tx