From the available records, it would seem that April 3, 1940, marked a sweet spot in my grandmother’s life.
As noted by the census enumerator, a Mr. William P. Graham, my grandmother was 41 years of age, and she lived in her own home with her husband (and my grandfather), Nick.
While much had changed since the previous census (one child had died, another — my mother — had been born, and the family had moved from Fresno, to Mariposa, and then back to Fresno), my grandmother was finally settled in a house of her own which was, in fact the house she would live in until her death in 1978.
All five of her living children were at home, and my grandfather, her third and longest lived husband, was in good health.
The oldest of my grandmother’s children — the woman who would become my Aunt Millie, — was 22 years-old and worked as a credit investigator for a furniture store; it was she who bought my grandmother this mirror:
which hung on the north wall of my grandmother’s living room from the day my Aunt Millie brought it home until my grandmother’s death.
From there, the mirror went to my Aunt Millie, after whose death the mirror went to my mother who then promptly gave it to me.
And since then, it has for most part, been wrapped up and squirreled away in various closets, unable to reflect on anything, but yesterday, spurred on in part my fellow Warren Wilson alum James Franco’s recent spat of selfies, I decided to pull the mirror out and use it take some selfies of my own.
Using my Samsung Note 3, my grandmother’s mirror, and a step stool I bought at the farmer’s market in Edwardsville, Illinois, in June of 2012, I got these “selfies” of various crochet projects.
First up was the Tetrisghan that I completed in May of last year.
The inaugural selfie left a bit to be desired:
while the second effort offered a somewhat better view:
Next, I pulled my 2006 North Carolina State Fair effort from storage to see what could be done:
Continuing with the theme of (crochet) circles within a circle (my grandmother’s mirror), I got out Dotghan 1.5:
Last, I tried to get a selfie of my much loved and as yet-to-be finished great granny square.
Here was one view:
and here was a second (and better in my estimation) view:
I don’t expect that when my aunt brought this mirror home to my grandmother she could foresee that at some point three-quarters of a century later the niece she did not yet know would take the mirror outside to photograph selfies of afghans, but while my aunt might not exactly approve, she would probably not be terribly surprised, and with a lot of luck and care, the mirror might just last another three quarters of a century.