When I was a kid my sisters and I would occasionally raid our grandfather's little country store. No, we were not little hellions or hoodlums, but we would raid the nasty box at the bottom of the coke machine where all the bottle caps from the local farmers, the hunters and housewives would fall when they opened their bottled drinks. They were taken home, washed real good and left to dry. After that . . .
You see the photo. It's a trivet I made my grandmother when I was fourteen or fifteen. It's not rocket science. You cover a bottle cap with a circle of durable fabric, stitch it down good, then stitch them to each other.
Bottled soft drinks aren't common these days and we saved our bottled IBC root beer caps through the holidays to resurrect this craft. Seriously, it had been over thirty five years since I had covered a bottle cap with wool. It felt good. I think Memaw probably grinned from heaven. And I don't think she'll mind one bit when I call some bars about collecting their bottle caps. There's no way I'll drink that much IBC.
Bottled soft drinks aren't common these days and we saved our bottled IBC root beer caps through the holidays to resurrect this craft. Seriously, it had been over thirty five years since I had covered a bottle cap with wool. It felt good. I think Memaw probably grinned from heaven. And I don't think she'll mind one bit when I call some bars about collecting their bottle caps. There's no way I'll drink that much IBC.
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