By Marcy Smith, Staff Writer
If you were to "draw" your day with fibers, what would it look like? A precisely patterned weaving? Or a crazy quilt?
My days shape up somewhere in between. They're most like a multicolored granny square blanket, made up of pieces of yarn shaped into a square. Each day I pick colors and match them up to make a whole. When one square is done, I sew it to the one I completed yesterday.
Often, though, it doesn't shape up so neatly. I find ends dangling from yesterday's square -- sometimes even from a square I made last week -- that must be woven in and snipped off. Mind you, I must still finish the square for today.
Usually the colors work together pretty well and the whole blanket is shaping up to be a good thing. But it's an ongoing process that is never quite done. The next day, I will return to weave in yesterday's ends, crochet today's square, pick tomorrow's colors. (This is all metaphorical, of course. I don't actually get to sit at my desk and crochet, though I do knit during meetings.)
Often, in the evening, those dangling ends left at work taunt me even through my efforts to find escape in knitting or spinning or writing for pleasure.
On a recent day, I received a book called "Crochet Stitch Motifs: 250 Stitches to Crochet" by Erika Knight (Interweave 2008). As I leafed through page after page of motifs, my fingers itched to crochet. Right then and there. As noted, I have no crocheting at my desk, but I had found a diversion for that night.
At home, I pulled out some crochet thread, a lovely mix of red, orange, blue and yellow called Mexicana (Aunt Lydia's Double Strand). I picked one of the many patterns that caught my eye. I made six chains, joined them into a circle and set out.
My plan was just to try the pattern, see how it turned out.
But a curious thing happened. As I crocheted, focusing on the instructions clearly laying out my path, I found myself wholly focused on the task at hand. The dangling ends of the day evaporated. It was just me and the evolving motif.
And here is the true miracle of the thing: I started and finished the motif in an evening. Two ends to weave in and then I was done!
I steamed the motif so that it lay flat and left it on the table where I could admire it.
Next night: Different pattern, same mental benefit. Total pleasure in the making of a thing that not only cleared my mind but also resulted in a thing of beauty. And I learned a new crochet technique, which, frankly, I hadn't thought possible after inventing a whole book's worth of crochet patterns.
But I never cease to be amazed at how I can loop a single strand of thread into a lacy fabric.
(And right here, I should just say that really it's a small doily. There, I've said it. I'm crocheting doilies. Lord help me.)
By the end of the week, I had a small pile of doilies on the table. With them piled up that way, thought, there wasn't any way to appreciate their lacy beauty.
I tipped my head and eyed the blank yellow wall next to me. What if I just held them up there -- ah, yes! That shows the beauty of the multicolored thread.
I taped the motifs I had made to the wall. They look something like multicolored snowflakes.
I've made a triangular motif and a few small motifs. There are 250 motifs to make, though some are color variations of the same pattern, so if I'm using the same thread, there are fewer patterns.
Enough to keep me occupied for some time. I'm still not tired of them. I have at the moment at least half a dozen I want to make -- that's a week more of therapy. At $4.95 for 300 yards, that's pretty cheap therapy.
The motifs have already crept over to another wall, so I suspect I will have something like wallpaper before long.
The family finds them pretty cool and fascinating (I accept that your family might just find them odd). Often the kids look for a new motif in the morning and are slightly disappointed if I opted to sleep instead of crochet.
All this is just to say: If you've got some ends dangling, scurry right out and buy this book, along with a hunk of thread and a crochet hook. You don't have to call them doilies.
The book has a companion: "Basic Crochet Stitches: 250 Stitches to Crochet" by Erika Knight (Interweave 2008). This hasn't yet spoken to me, probably because the swatches are square. That's too much like work.
And if you eschew crochet, I have some other books to recommend. See the list accompanying this story.
All rights reserved. This copyrighted material may not be published, broadcast or redistributed in any manner.
Get $150+ in coupons in every Sunday N&O. Click here for convenient home delivery.