The tatted angel

Woke up at quarter to five this morning and lay there thinking about the garage sale where I saw the tatted angels. ...and hadn't bought one. What kind of buyer's remorse is that? Could I carry it all summer? I think not.

Waterboys, In Search of a Rose

No matter. Got up and had coffee and like a whirlwind was on the road by 6:30am. My friend drove us around in her van yesterday, so I figured it was 50-50 or maybe 40-60 whether I'd ever find the place again. Hunh. I've sort of got a reputation for being "wrong-way navigator"... that's a story for another day.

I was on a mission this morning.

Incredibly I drove right to their door. Um, after I explored the neighborhood across the highway. But once I got on right side of the street I saw Dale putting up the garage door. She thought I was her neighbor because she thought she recognized my car. I just was surprised she seemed so happy to see me again.

She was incredulous when she discovered I'd driven 60 miles to get myself an angel. She said she was "honored" that I drove all that way, so I asked if that meant I could visit the throne room. It was a long ride after coffee.

I didn't tell her it was really peace of mind I was after... the angel was almost secondary.



Ruth, the tatting lady, showed up a moment later as Dale was getting coffee ready. I was *really* early! I began browsing the angels and doilies as Ruth plopped a grocery bag full of mini-loafs of carrot bread, zuchinni bread, and some other types of bread into the front right corner of my picture. "I was busy baking last night," she laughed.

After a full day of garage sale business yesterday, and taking care of a g-grandbaby last night, she still made ...I don't know... fifteen or twenty of these mini loaf breads? Geez! We chatted awhile, and she told me again about the square knot. I asked to take a picture, and then told them I'd mail them a copy of my blog.

"Oh here, take my business card. My printer is a joker, and he printed one card and put it on top for when I picked up the order that said 'Tattooing' instead of 'Tatting'... he just wanted to mess with me to see what I'd do. ...Oh, and you'll need my email address." Ruth says with a twinkle in her eye and a big smile.



I like these two a *lot*. I heard some great stories. In the picture, Ruth is on the left, she's about 5' and her hair reminds me of the angel's tight curls. Dale is seated on the right. Oh, she told me a story about a crazy job interview she had for a chef position for a major hotel chain in the 1960s. He told her "Strip," and he didn't mean a New York center cut, either. Equal rights for women still has a way to go, but she put some perspective on exactly how far we have come by relating that story.

From Ruth's tatted work, I picked out a few angels, a bookmark, and one of those plate size doilies (red and white since sepia is the color of the day). The table is filled with doilies, crocheted potholders and lots of loaves of bread.

I also bought a very artistic pig potholder that Ruth made. It's going to one of the instructors who collects porcine and will be back on campus later this summer.

She's going to teach me and my friend how to tat. It's going to be a lost art, you know. Perfect for me.