Shortly before Easter my good friends, Kathy and Noreen taught me to crochet. My mother tried to teach me when I was little but all I could manage was knitting. In my mind, crocheting was classy and clever and had far more appeal to me – all that winding and weaving with one little hook turning yarn into cool things before my very eyes.
And now that I’ve started it has taken on a life of its own. I have some extra time right now as I am not working on account of my busted rib (I heard the pop before the pain during an enthusiastic bear hug from my beloved son, Colin). And speaking of Colin – funny side story – he is living in Newmarket doing an internship for his heavy equipment mechanics program and to stay fit he has been running a lot. Feeling staunch and hard-core, he takes his camelback (a hydration system with a tube so you can drink while you run) with him. He is single, twenty and hetero, so upon seeing a couple of “very attractive girls”, I am sure that he stood up straighter and maybe ran a little faster. As he passed them, he overheard one of the girls say “I didn’t think you could go out in public with a catheter”. Needless to say, no more camelback, but I digress…
With no capability at the moment to push, pull, twist or lift I am free to indulge in my crocheting mania. I have made 3 baby quilts, 2 full sized afghans, and hats, mitts, slippers, and baby mukluks far into the double digits. I scour yard sales looking for wool. I am, finally, at long last, a crocheter. The novelty is still thrilling.
Rushing forth with blind ignorance I started an intricate crocheted heirloom quilt that is well beyond my abilities. I am consumed and think I may be developing a facial tick. I have wondered about the psychology (or should I say pathology) of becoming so immersive into my projects, this extremist tendency I seem to have. I caution myself to take it slow and easy this time but when I try to do that it’s like swimming against the tide – possible but hard work to get nowhere. It feels more natural to let the current take me hell-bent down the river. But I also love writing and wanted to stop and write this blog. At the very worst, it gets me off the hook…at least for a few hours.
And I’m happy to get a couple of squares done each day! You go girl. Take care of that rib too.
I love that outfit that you made for Brad and Michalia. It was gorgeous
Hi Sweetie – You are a riot – so good at writing. Can’t believe the crochet mania! What an amazing person you are! xo Di
Thank you my friend xo
I just knew a broken rib wouldn’t stand a chance at causing you to stop……I don’t think anything can!
I dont know…a couple more of these and I think I’m a goner 🙂
You are hilarious! Sorry to hear about your busted rib. Ow! Glad to hear you have something to pass the time while you heal.xxx (no hugs til your rib is better)
Ow is right for sure. My hugs are winpy little things now. Such a sad thing. Lets get together soon.
Okay there are easier ways to get some time off…:-) Wishing you a speedy recovery…
thanks Nancy. Hope you are well and that we can connect at some point. 🙂