Chain, Single Stitch, Percocet...
Add another craft to my list of things I'll never master. I'm talking Crocheting!
I've long been an admirer of the beautiful handwork of those who HAVE mastered it. The beautiful colors, the exact precision in their stitches....I'm blaming it on my being a left-hander. And if that fails, I can always fall back on my dislike for following directions. Have you ever read those things?
My grandmother was a wonderful crocheter- and we all had the bedspreads, afghans and house slippers to prove it. When I first attempted to try my hand at her craft, she was more than willing to teach me. I remember her loving instructions and her trying to adapt them to a lefty. I promised to practice, which is what it takes. Hadn't planned on falling and breaking my tailbone that winter. Bad for my hubby and kids, but good for my intentions to master crocheting. Couldn't do much else, as I was laid up for a week. I learned something more than crocheting that week, though. I learned that prescription drugs can be wonderful things.
That week, while under the influence, I was cranking out crochet squares like I was possessed. When my Grandma witnessed my progress, I'm sure she was proud. But when the drugs ran out and my tailbone healed, a strange thing happened. No longer relaxed, I regressed, tightened up and it showed in my stitches. Truth be told, nothing has come out straight or even ever since.
Friends have tried their best (Thanks, Sherry..) to help me produce the beautiful pieces I've admired for years. I just can't do it! Things come out too tight or too loose....scarves come out too long and crooked. And my afghans are laughable...seriously!
Crocheting just seems like a cozy thing to do. I really wish I could have made my late Grandma proud, replicating the fine things she made. But I also know she'd be proud that I "just say NO" to drugs, and accept the fact that I need to find something else to do on these cold winter nights.
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