OTY is basically right that "into every life a patchwork afghan must fall", but my own data point is that they must sometimes come into a life in blizzards. When my folks died, my sister and I began the 3-year process of excavating their home of 50 years. By the time we folded them, there were three closets of afghans stacked shoulder high. Of the twenty aunts and 2 grandmothers, only four remain, but it's fortunate that they've apparently all run out of yarn. Our city has one of those annual yarn events where knitters cover trees and park benches. We're anxiously awaiting the next one as we have plenty of ammo.

This picture was a definite treat for me. I see my mother's pillows on the couch and her rug on the floor. My great-aunts crocheted granny square blanket made of 100% wool that scratched like the dickens. Put yourself on that couch (ours was dark purple) and between the blanket and the scratchy couch you didn't know which was worse! Oh, we had those drapes too and those little deer that are on the shelf. Ours were candles and we still have them. Great slide!

Does anyone know what kind of stovepipes Mr. Leslie is wearing? The trousers look particularly long lasting and I would like to know if they make clothing like this today. I have trouble finding sensible clothing that will not fall apart in a few months.

I know that I can get boots custom made. Those boots are too cool for school!

[The trousers look like twill work pants. - Dave]

a patchwork afghan must fall. I believe everyone on earth in modern times is familiar with similar afghans, either crocheted or knitted by their grandma or aunt, neighbor or friend, with the black background and multicolored blocks hooked together. I'm told it was often made by using up small bits of assorted yarn that were left over from other projects. Don't see 'em much anymore. Perhaps our era will be referred to by archeologists as the "afghan age".

When I was a child we had a sofa upholstered in that fabric. Horrible stuff, felt like steel wool. If you wore shorts, you had to sit perfectly still or sand off a layer of skin.

[Crunchy nylon. My grandparents had one too. -Dave]

Not only Western boots (in Minnesota?), but authentic riding heels, of the kind that put more than one inebriated cowpoke flat on his back when he leaned back to spit some chaw at the cuspidor.

I would love to see a picture of the whole thing -- very sleek. However, the boots, drapes, wallpaper, shirt and tie more than make up for it! That wallet or checkbook in his pocket is pretty snazzy as well. What a terrific slide!

I LOVE that clock -- and if those figurines are salt and pepper shakers, I can die a happy man!

Match the drapes, perfectly.

Bits and pieces of Leslie C. Boler's life appear among various news and ancestry databases. Not surprisingly, like so many men who were 21 at the time of the 1940 Census, he served in the military. He returned home and, like his father and relatives, farmed near Truman, Minnesota. In 1957, he put his four tractors and other equipment up for sale in an ad placed in the Estherville, Iowa, Daily News, explaining that he was "going into a larger farming type operation." His fifteen seconds of fame came the next year, when on March 8, 1958 he was mentioned on the front page of the New York Times as an example of farmers dramatically improving their corn yields through new farming techniques. At some point he and his wife moved a few miles east to Hollandale, Minnesota, then to Orange County, California, where he died in 2002.

Wallpaper, pillows, afghan, curtains, sofa, rug ... and that vase has flowers not just in it, but ON it.

It's not every day when your boots match the drapes. Part of me really wishes that was planned, but I doubt it was!