It’s December 2013, and I’m sitting on the futon in my college apartment. My end-of-semester assignments are looming, and junior year is kicking my butt a little bit. I have a car, a bit of money to spare in my tiny student bank account, and something makes me say to myself, “I want to learn how to crochet.” So I drive to Walmart and buy one skein of Lion Brand Hometown USA and a hook.
So my crochet hobby didn’t exactly start in the most sentimental way. I didn’t learn from a maternal figure on a comfy couch with the smell of cookies baking in the next room. I learned from a YouTube video in an old apartment, all the while feeling guilt for all the schoolwork I wasn’t doing.
But it was this less-than-sentimental beginning that makes me want to share my story. Having this creative hobby changed my life.
Remember when I said that I’d be posting on Sunday mornings? I’ve already lied to you. It’s Wednesday, and here’s another new post for you.
It’s the first Wednesday of the month.
I want to introduce you to a project I’m starting, and even though this is a life project, I can’t seem to separate it from a crochet metaphor in my mind. It goes like this:
If you’re a yarn crafter, you know how tempting it can be to gather patterns for projects you would love to make. You may even go so far as to buy the yarn, but let’s face it, some projects never get started.Even more projects never get finished. My life feels kind of like my yarn stash right now. It’s a mix of exciting possibilities, overwhelming potential, and a bit of guilt for letting some endeavors sit for so long. (I’m thinking of you, granny square blanket that I started in 2015).