Sometimes I wonder what my mother would have thought about the things I say or the things I do these days. I wonder if she knows about Girlfriend, or if she would laugh at my jokes or think some of my pictures are interesting or if she would try to knit.
I was reminded of her today when I uploaded the picture with the Karabella Marble under my hat. The color of that yarn is the same color as my roots these days. I used to be blonde and then one day it was grey. Mom's hair was the same color. And that is why I thought of her.
She used to say that no matter which tint she applied to her hair, that within a few days or a week, her hair would always return to the same yellow-ish tinge. That no matter what she did, she'd always be the same old, same old and that was alright with her. Remember when I accidentally went pink? Well, look at it now. It has the same yellow-ish tinge. In spite of the promise to myself that I'd let myself go grey (finally). It is a bit more grey these days. But it is still yellow, too.
I love this Karabella Marble. Partly because it reminds me of my mom's grey hair that turned yellow on its own. But also because it is lofty and soft and slightly felted and not so heavy that it will be too warm for me to wear when it finally dips below 70 one of these days.
It's kind of weird, isn't it? That yarn could bring you to this place? That yarn could remind you of your long lost mom? That its texture could make you sing or cry or just feel at home, at last?