And when I say obsession, I'm not kidding you. I spent almost every free moment for a week and a half reading every blog post she's ever written (and she's been online for four and a half years). If she posted a picture of her teacup, I drank tea. If she shopped for yarn, I went online. If she went outside to tend her flowers, I looked outside to see if anything was dead and moved on to the next page.
It was a freaky kind of spell she had me under. She does so much more than drink tea and shop for yarn. She makes the most wonderful crochet creations. I just want to go live in her slightly chaotic life for a while. We won't mention that she's a lot messier than I am, and sometimes I want to go live with her just so I can help her out. I mean, I cleaned out the junk drawer this week as a reward for paying bills. Regardless, I. Could. Not. Stop. Reading. Her joy in a rainy day, her desire to spend the maximum time possible in pajamas, and her ability to say fuck it to the mess on the dining room table (my words, not hers) are all something to which I aspire.
And yet. As much time as I spent staring at the screen, wanting to know more about her, to BE her, I thought, why don't I just crochet something? So, I did. I used her general pattern for granny squares. They were some of the very first things I ever learned how to do with a needle (or hook), but I wasn't sure I still remembered how to crochet, much less execute a granny (diction saves lives). Recently, I've been pretty much exclusively a knitter, but it was amazing how quickly it came back. If I really think about it, crochet was my first craft love.
Mostly I loved crochet because I so loved my great aunts, Grace and Lucy. They were responsible for me and my brother after my grandmother dumped us on them after my mom dumped us on her. Anyway, they were both retired and both loved kids. So, with them, we hung. And it was fabulous - unlimited cake access, unlimited TV access, unlimited whatever we wanted. In my mind, both of them have gray-blue hair and smell like Coppertone. They have plastic flowers on their flip-flops, and they share a bed with their 85-year-old mother at the beach motel on Dog Island. They were pretty close to what a perfect family looked like, as far as I knew. I loved them. A lot.
Lucy always, always had some form of crochet with her. Usually something very large and blanket-y. She taught me early how to crochet and how to make a granny square. I still have the orange, sunflower, and avocado afghan she made my mom when I was born (yup, it was the late '60s) and I still have the peach, blue and cream afghan she made for me when I went away to college. It's on my bed right now.
|22 squares - 11/11/12|
At some point, I realized that the few bits of leftover yarn just wasn't going to cut it. I bought more. And then I bought some more. If you've been playing along, you will also know that I am on a strict budget. This current project is taxing my resolve. But the payoff is so worth it.
|84 squares - 11/29/12|