I crocheted this scarf in 1975. I had just graduated that spring, and work was hard to find, so I occupied myself with whatever I could at the time.
Edward the Plumber, a neighbor, stopped by the house while I was sitting in the living room working on the scarf. He took a long look at me, lost and recovered his composure, and then told my mother that he would rather see his son dead with a bullet in his head than to see him doing such a thing.
Later that month, one of my cousins was having a baby, and she thought she knew who the father was, but given her proclivities, I think she can be glad DNA testing didn't exist then. To be the Good Cousin, I made a baby blanket from the same material. However, being new to crochet, I ran the lines the long way rather than the short way. This was pointed out when I gave them the blanket, though I'm still not sure what it might have mattered. The little blanket most likely met it's fate in the burn barrel the following Friday.
As for the scarf, I wore it a long while, and then my mother took it over when a long distance girlfriend made me a Dr. Who styled scarf. Some 15 years ago, Mama gave the scarf back to me, and I've retained it since. It seems warmer than when I first made it.