Over the thrifting years past I've left behind far more potholders than I've brought home. There's a limit, after all, to the critical mass of cuteness that can be accommodated in one's home. But the ones that made it through the door are certainly a pleasure to behold.
As always it's the woman behind the work that captures my imagination when I'm stopped in my tracks by an abandoned lovely in a thrift store. The skill of crochet seems about as unattainable to me as a career in quantum physics, and I always think hard about those countless hard-working, talented women. A silent nod to housewives everywhere.