History week was

duly acknowledged at our knitting guild with a small display of items from the past belonging to some members - and a mini-market.
I managed to get there - another story - and looked at photographs, old school reports, certificates, a dress someone had worn as a baby and some school exercise books.  
Had things been different I would have taken the family christening gown - carefully stored away. It could still be used - if the baby was small enough. My great-great-grandmother made it. There is a petticoat and a gown. They are made from white linen. The design is not as elaborate as some but it is exquisitely pin-tucked and there are tiny puff sleeves and lace around the edges. 
I look at it in amazement. I was once small enough to wear this. I wore it and my brother wore it. My two sisters were too big - their christenings being delayed for one reason or another. My father and his brother wore it too. My paternal grandfather wore it - as did all his siblings and other members of that generation.
Yes, it looks old now and it is probably too fragile to wear. Even taking it out of the bag it is kept in worries me. Still, I wish I had taken it because it would have been a great deal older than anything else there and people would I think have been interested in the workmanship involved.
Instead I prowled around the mini-market. No, I wasn't going to buy anything...I was not going to buy anything.
In truth most of it did not interest me. There were buttons no different from the buttons I had been selling at the recent craft fair.
There were books I already had or did not want and I no longer buy books for the guild library.
And there was yarn of course - after all this is a knitting group. People were looking at it and talking to the vendors. 
I happily avoided all the commercial yarn. One vendor lives just around the corner from me. If I want yarn from her I can go and visit. 
I had been told that the only person I might be interested in buying yarn from would not be there. I had thought I was "safe". Not so. There she was.  She sells hand-dyed yarn. 
Unlike many people who sell "hand-dyed" yarn there is something very, very special about her yarn. It is truly professional. Her "colour ways" are lovely - to the extent that, even though I don't like pink, I can approve of her pinks.  
She smiled at me and nodded. I knew that meant she had something she thought I might be interested in. She finished serving another member of the guild and just pointed to a compartment on her small display as she started to serve another person.
Ah! Yes! My paw went out. Lace weight. Merino-silk mix.
     "I wasn't able to get much of it and it is a  heavy lace weight," she told me.
I let the back of my paw run slowly over it - a trick I long ago learned from the Senior Cat and his woodworking friends. Mmm....I was definitely purring now. My paw closed around it. No, it wasn't expensive. When I consider the time it must have taken her to dye it the yarn was actually ridiculously cheap. I considered who might benefit from it. There is a long list of people who might just like something made from this.
I added to the stash...and I am still purring. History in the making perhaps?