Too many sweaters, too many scarves? When I moved to Shrimp Town two years ago, I kept all my winter woolens, as I knew I'd be back home some day. Besides, all of these things remind me of someone. There's the brown alpaca hat my friend R brought me from Peru, where he was seeing his family, and the musk ox headband my parents got for me on a trip to Alaska to see my brother. Then there's the red and purple scarf that I found in my mailbox at my internship during grad school, made by one of the friars. There's the variegated scarf and orange hat knitted by two sisters, were members of the youth group at the church where I volunteered after college. And there's the scarf my aunt made for me, with its blue and purple loops sticking out from the black threads like jewels. And of course, there're all the projects my mom has made for me: the autumn-leaves scarf, thick and heavy, the dusty mauve feather-and-fan scarf, the bright green mittens.
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