My paternal grandmother taught us (my sister and me) how to crochet when we were in grade school. I remember the two of us sitting with Grandma, using her spare hooks, while she showed us each stitch. Karen – two years older than me – made tight, precise single crochet stitches; each row, each stitch was the perfectly aligned twin to the previous stitch and row. I…um…well, my rows had a tendency to shrink (I never got that whole ‘turning chain’ thing) and double stitches would pop up in a row of trebles, singles here and there and so forth. “Oh my”, Grandma said while unraveling row after row of my attempt at a pot holder, “maybe you could learn to cook.”
Crochet had been considered a respectable past time for the women of Grandma’s family. (Of course this skill came in quite handy during the era of greased hair styles for men – crocheted antimacassars were an attractive defense against stains.) I am lucky to have a couple pieces of my great grandmother’s work:
Her detail and stitching blows me away. This was done with very fine thread and super tiny hook. Even with my new progressive lenses, I can barely count the number of stitches in just one of those chevrons.
Grandma was no slouch either:
So. My early crocheting was not a screaming success. I didn’t touch a hook for many years. Then one day, decades later, I wanted to crochet again. Dave surprised me with a gift of hooks, yarn, and a How to Crochet book. I started crocheting the same day and haven’t stopped. These days I do a lot of felting and the occasional afghan. When a friend of ours announced her pregnancy, it seemed natural for me to say, “I’ll make a baby afghan.”
I launched a search for the ‘right’ pattern. I did not want to do a typical style and finally chose to do a pattern I had found on the Lion Brand website. I had done an afghan using this pattern for us:
I hope to have it completed by the baby shower. (Or first birthday if I don’t get moving.)
By the way, Karen never crocheted again. And I did learn to cook.