Soms zit ik zo eens door mijn oude reisfoto's te snuisteren, dat doen jullie vast ook weleens. En tussen de 'Goh, wat was het hier mooi' en de 'Wat jammer dat ik die spijkerbroek niet meer heb' en de 'Waarom heb ik daar in vredesnaam geen mascara op' en andere diepe gedachtes had ik ineens een 'Hé, gehaakte dekens' moment. Mijn oog viel op een foto van een aantal oude dames en een meisje dat op de stoep zat te haken en kletsen.
Sometimes I am browsing through my old travel pics, as I am sure you all do sometimes, and I had some incredibly deep thoughts. Like 'Ooh, it's so pretty there' and 'What a shame I don't have that pair of jeans anymore' and 'Why on earth am I not wearing mascara that day?', you know... all phylosophical. And then my mind went to 'Hey look, crochet blankets'. A much better pondering I would think. My eye caught a picture that I took from a bunch of ladies and a girl, sitting by the side of the road, crocheting.
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Sometimes I am browsing through my old travel pics, as I am sure you all do sometimes, and I had some incredibly deep thoughts. Like 'Ooh, it's so pretty there' and 'What a shame I don't have that pair of jeans anymore' and 'Why on earth am I not wearing mascara that day?', you know... all phylosophical. And then my mind went to 'Hey look, crochet blankets'. A much better pondering I would think. My eye caught a picture that I took from a bunch of ladies and a girl, sitting by the side of the road, crocheting.



















