"Lolly's Yarns" by Anna Laurene Arnett
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Anna Laurene Arnett
Anna Laurene Arnett
Lolly was my childhood nickname. I once repudiated Lolly, but reclaimed it some four decades later.
Mother taught me to knit when I was about eight. My first embroidery stitches could only be loved by me and possibly my mother, but they improved, and eventually I tackled crewel and needlepoint. After I married, my mother-in-law and I spent hours hand-quilting together, and she taught me to crochet and tat. I became hooked. By twenty-five I'd reached addiction. Unless I held a child in my lap, most of my sitting time included plying knitting needles or a crochet hook.
I've latched, braided and woven rugs, indulged in macrame, and bobbin lace. I carry yarn with me and knit afghans or crochet granny squares when riding as passenger in cars or planes, or in waiting rooms. I study yarn in shops and usually buy at least a few balls. I've given away most of what I've made, and am the only one I know of who's crazy enough to stockpile knit and crocheted cotton dishcloths to be given away at my funeral.
My nickname Lolly and the double meaning of Yarn as both tales of my life and my love of knitting has led to the logical title of this book.
Though basically my memoirs, Lolly's Yarns will read like a novel. I believe every life is unique. If told well, each could be fantastic.
First published in 2010 as Lolly's Yarn (singular), a new, improved and slightly expanded second edition was published in 2014 and pluralized into Lolly's Yarns.
The video above is the book trailer for the singular edition. You'll just have to mentally make the proper correction as you watch it until, if and when, the video can be redone.
Lolly's Yarns is currently available only here, direct from Anna Laurene Arnett (signed by Lolly herself), but will eventually be available online from Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and CreateSpace, in both print and e-book formats (Kindle and Nook). Have patience.
Anna met Charles in Sunday School while he was in pilot training in 1943. The next weekend they went to a church dance; the next month she pinned his wings on him and Charles kissed her goodbye. The next time they saw each other was twenty-one months later when they married.
In these memoirs Anna recounts with verve, humor, and understatement, her sixty-two year marriage to Charles Arnett, including living without a door in the middle bedroom of her in-laws' home, coping with being left behind for year-long Air Force assignments to Iceland and Vietnam, and moving twenty-nine times.
Though Charles has now passed away, their romance has not ended. Anna feels that Charles is merely on another overseas assignment, and they will be together once more.
Anna's life is a triumph over pessimism that prompts women to tell her, "When I grow up, I want to be just like you."