This is what you would certainly call a tender pic. It shows my friend Judy cradling her 1-month-old granddaughter, Lily, on the stoop of my brother-in-law’s family’s home in the North Riverdale neighborhood of the Bronx. This is a tree-lined neighborhood of Tudor-style brick homes built in the 20s and 30s, perhaps best defined by the fact that one would plant oneself with one’s newborn grandchild on the stoop, the better for passersby to admire and kvell. Since my brother-in-law’s wife has declared that she intends to be carried out of this house at the end of a long and full life (i.e., they’re never moving), I hope that one day I will be sitting on this very stoop with a grandchild or great-niece or -nephew, hoping like heck that a neighbor will walk by.
Now Ann, I know you’re thinking, nice photo, excellent PR for the Bronx, but where’s the knitting angle?
Judy is a knitter. She made this heirloom blanket for little Lily from a pattern that a friend’s mother had used, years ago, to make four blankets for her four grandchildren, who are all grown up now. The blanket consists of 48 squares, which are sewn together to make the flowers and textured design. Here’s some detail, without the glaring flash (blankets don’t move–I’m learning how to work this thing!).
Thanks to Judy for sharing her blanket and her beautiful granddaughter, and for all those challahs on all those holidays (Judy is an ace baker also).
P.S. Wish I had a better photo of Judy, but in every single shot she was looking away from the camera to maintain unbroken eye contact with Lily, as required by the Shop Rules of the International Grandmothers Union.