Access the full text.
Sign up today, get DeepDyve free for 14 days.
References for this paper are not available at this time. We will be adding them shortly, thank you for your patience.
FICTION Agnes Scott Stevens Until Eulene died at eighty-three--that's Mama's oldest sister--she'd never been to a flea market, maybe even never heard of one. Now she to be Eulene." Crazy, you say. Maybe. It's like this. practically lives in one. Someone's always spotting her, saying, "That has Eulene, it's said, was a fast learner of anything she set her mind to. She'd have a quilt pieced, off the frame and on the bed while the weather was changing. She could crochet, tat, knit, spin, weave, and do any embroidery stitch you could name. They say the day after a flour sack was emptied, Eulene had it washed, ironed, and a crocheted border around it, not to mention a colorful spray of flowers at each end. Turkey-red was her favorite color, and it's rumored she'd boil up a rooster's cockscomb to get that exact color. I suppose that's all hogwash. Maybe not. After Eulene died, her highfalutin daughter, Bernice, who had gone away to Birmingham, sold all the stuff her mama had made to a flea market woman. There were trunks and boxes in the attic stuffed with dresser scarves, crocheted doilies, and pot holders. The colder and longer
Appalachian Review – University of North Carolina Press
Published: Jan 8, 1997
Read and print from thousands of top scholarly journals.
Already have an account? Log in
Bookmark this article. You can see your Bookmarks on your DeepDyve Library.
To save an article, log in first, or sign up for a DeepDyve account if you don’t already have one.
Copy and paste the desired citation format or use the link below to download a file formatted for EndNote
Access the full text.
Sign up today, get DeepDyve free for 14 days.
All DeepDyve websites use cookies to improve your online experience. They were placed on your computer when you launched this website. You can change your cookie settings through your browser.