Hooking addiction
Since my Mom gave me a hook, a ball of yarn and a book last week I’ve been obsessed. I think about crochet when I’m at work. I come home and immediately want to get back into it. I’ve started searching for crochet videos on-line. I’ve started making veiled crochet metaphors such as, “Working on this project is like a long twisting chain”.
Crocheting is like playing tetris, fitting the little pieces together. It’s like writing computer code and getting everything lined up just so and the sense of peace that comes with that order. It is like picking a scab, where you just want to peel back a little more and then a little more. “Ten more minutes and I’ll come to bed.” “I just need to finish 4, no 6, ok 11, more stitches and I will put it down.”
Tonight I officially passed the basic crochet stitches and moved on to making a flat circle. Soon I might actually move on to making a real article of something, like a scarf or a hat or something. The only problem is that here in Atlanta you hardly ever need a scarf, so I’ve been thinking of making little cardigans and fun skirts and stuff like that. And trim! All my clothes could have little lace trims. Oh the possibilities!







