Tangible Memories

I have jokingly said that if I didn’t feed my creativity with writing I’d crochet doilies. But seriously I think it would be afghans. And in fact, I have been giving some serious thought to doing both.

My mother both crocheted and knitted. The one in the picture she made me around thirty years ago and it has been a constant in our livingroom since the day she gave it to me. It’s the perfect size and weight. My kids and grandkids have curled up with it through the years. And if it could talk, it no doubt would have some tales to spin. Amazingly and thankfully it isn’t showing any signs of wear.

I taught myself to crochet. I’m left handed and neither my mother or sister-in-law who like mom knitted too, could help me. Knitting I never could grasp. In fact one of the times mother tried to teach me, my father said we should sell tickets as it was like a comedy show.

I never got beyond afghans, no sweaters, hats or slippers for me. But I did accomplish what I wanted, and that was to make something for my mother as she never kept anything she made for herself. My first attempt was a crocheted piece that used a broom stick. And then I saw this pattern and fell in love. Naivete, or just plain dumb I bought all the yarn and started. And started, and started. I almost wore the yarn out until I finally came to terms with the afghan stitch that is probably the most simple stitch there is. And, I got it done. The lady at the store where I bought the embroidery yarn said it was an heirloom. Hah, I thought yarn alone would be an heirloom before I got it finished. But I did, and mother enjoyed it on her bed for years. I have it now and it’s horribly heavy so it sits in a cedar chest. I keep thinking I need to take it out and display or use it. Um, so where? ☺