When I had surgery, I may have gone a little mad. It only took one week, ONE WEEK, of TV / iPad / Netflix before I was over technology.
The meds made my attention span short and my coherence too…incoherent, so writing was out.
I couldn’t even read a book; anything longer than a magazine article and my eyes glazed over. I spent a lot of time staring at the ceiling gibbering over a sippy-cup of broth.
Enter a friend who wanted to learn to crochet together. “Perfect!” I thought. She grabbed some yarn for me, I googled a pattern or two, we practiced a few stitches, and in lurches of distracted time-passing effort made a hat.
“Perfect!” I thought again. The mindless repetitive motion took nearly no effort yet helped pass the time.
It was perfect.
For about a week, maybe two.
If that.
Once my ability to think came back, it was much too tedious. Like awaking from a dream, I stared at the yarn in horror. This wasn’t me! What was I thinking?!?
Hundreds of rows, thousands of stitches, 2 hats, one scarf, and 3/4 of a diaper bag later, I’m sitting in my living room staring at a canvas bag stuffed in the corner full of yarn, crochet hooks, 2 pattern books, and 3/4s of a diaper bag that hasn’t been touched since my mind came back.
Which, for reference, was 6 months ago. Yet, I can’t bring myself to throw it away since I put so much work into it. Could you?
Sigh.
Anyone want some crochet supplies, and/or want a do-it-yourself green/pink/blue diaper bag? Give me a ring.