This sweater has a story. Amalie loved to go down to Carmel, California (also known as Carmel-by-the-Sea) sometime around her birthday, which was near the end of December. This particular year the sun was out, and it was really nice. She loved to window shop, we’d stop for ice cream, and then sometime later we planned to find a nice restaurant for dinner.
The day was so pleasant that I had not worn a jacket, but around 5 p.m. a breeze came up and I was getting chilled. Am suggested we buy me a sweater, and we ducked into a men’s store right there on the main drag. Now nothing in Carmel is considered inexpensive, and this store was no exception. After we told the clerk what we wanted, he showed us several gorgeous, expensive items, to which we demurred. Finally the clerk brought out this one, saying it had a tiny flaw. How much? He told us, and that sounded all right to me. And I couldn’t see any flaw, but my dear, frugal wife took it, examined it for a while, and found a tiny, tiny hole in an inconspicuous spot. A flaw? This was a hole! How much of a discount would he give us for that? He didn’t even hem and haw over it, but gave a figure, to which Amalie agreed.
I’ve now had it for many, many years, and it still keeps me warm on cool days.
Don't know if you would consider this funny, but it is certainly fascinating: