Our Neighbour

Our next door neighbour died a few weeks ago. She lived in the bottom flat with the garden next to ours. We would often see her pottering about in the garden, filling the bird feeder and putting her washing out to dry. Although almost completely deaf I always said "hello" when I saw her and would attempted to have a conversation with her. One day I found out that she was a knitter and although the conversation flew off on a tangent quickly I think she understood that I knit too. 

When she died her Son in Law, who always had a chat with us when cutting the grass, told us the news. We passed on our condolences. She was a lovely lady, who was devoted to the church, helped at play groups, coffee mornings for new Mums and probably a lot of other things I never found out about. 

Then this weekend her Son in Law popped a bag of yarn and accessories over the fence and told me that she would want her knitting bits to go to a good home. I was so excited to open up the bag and as I went through it I felt a mix of emotions for the nice lady these things belonged to. It made me smile to read through her hand written pattern notes.

It made me smile to read her hand written pattern notes. Pulling out the button box was very exciting as you know I can't resist buttons. The little tin in the picture above was another exciting item. It makes me wonder where it came from, what it was originally used for and why she owned it. The same went for the box of cotton reels below, which was so pretty. Did the cotton reels come in this box or where they collated into it over time? 

All of the yarn was acrylic, which I will most likely pass on or donate to charity, but I felt particularly sad when I pulled out a half knitted square, with a small stack of identical squares underneath it. She was obviously making them for someone, perhaps it was for a charity, or even for herself. I think I will finish the square for her and send them to one of the many charities that collects them. I'm hoping that's what she would have wanted.