More than 10 years ago, I went shopping for some things for my trousseau. Greg and I were about to get married and I wanted some new clothes for our honeymoon. Since we were headed to San Francisco, my shopping included a couple of sweaters.
In one of Greg's favorite pictures from that trip, I'm wearing a red wool cardigan sweater. I still have it. It's my wear-around-the-house-almost-the-entire-winter sweater. If you're family and you've been to my house in the last seven or so years, you've seen it.
Why wouldn't you have seen it for the first three years of our marriage? Because I probably mostly wore it to work. Why don't I wear it to work any more? Because it has an absolutely huge hole in one elbow.
The hole in the elbow drives Greg nuts. Tonight again, he asked it he could patch it or try to sew it together or something (that whole Renaissance man thing going on again--see my birthday message from last September 13). I told him no, because either would change the way the sweater feels.
Because it's wool, I never wear it without another shirt beneath, so it's not like I get a draft on my elbow or something. It has wonderful memories attached to it. So yes, I can afford a new sweater to wear around the house in the winter. Am I going to get a new one? Nope.
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