When my grandmother died, the daughters and granddaughters divided up her craft supplies. I ended up with a few skeins of yarn, and a few odd pieces that look like the starting of blankets. I always wondered what they were, and who they might have been for. Maybe they were gifts for me. Was she making me a shawl? A blue and cream christmas tree skirt? I'll never know.
Whenever I buy those random bags of fabric or yarn from yard sales and thrift stores, I always find these same types of odd unfinished pieces, and wonder what they were meant to be. Against my better judgement, I always imagine the person fully intending to finish the project, and just up-and-dying before they had the chance.
If I die today, here is a photo of all my unfinished crochet projects, Every single one of them I started while I was pregnant, and each one was intended to be a baby blanket for my (now one-year-old) baby.
