Crochet has saved lives
It’s true. At least in our house.
If I hadn’t relearned crochet a few years ago to work on in those glances of my spare time, there’s no telling what shape my family would be in. The rhythm of crochet is so satisfying. Even when you have to “frog”, or undo stitches, there’s something very relaxing about pulling that yarn out of the loops. Oh and don’t get me started on just holding the yarn. Seriously, it’s my equivalent to someone else’s spa experience. Really. What IS that? I know now what it is. It’s the calming moments in the middle of the chaos that is life. If you’re a crocheter or creative, you know what I mean.
I can crochet in the evenings after a long day trying to figure out why the smallest person in this house has the longest trail of “experiments”, usually involving some kind of liquid and random pieces of outside. Why multiple blankets are strewn about while reading or laying upside down in a chair watching an engineering show or wearing a blanket or three just because. Why he feels the need to display custom LEGO models on every surface in our living room and on his bathroom counter and floor while sitting, relieving his body of yesterday’s dinner, but not wanting to stop what he was doing because he had “a great idea”. There may be anywhere from one to six branches, not necessarily small, that he’s brought inside to make sure we don’t recycle those particular sticks into our burn pile for our campfires.
And then there are the Bobs.
He brings to me many Bobs. Bob is apparently a favorite name for any animal that crosses his path and therefore he feels a need to introduce his new companion to his current family members. Bob the grasshopper. Bob the caterpillar. Bob the Toad. Bob the earthworm. Bob the cicada. Although I think Bob the earthworm got acquainted with the chickens for a heartbeat and let’s just say a chicken got extra protein that day. I will say he always releases any critters soon after the welcoming committee adjourns and he does clean up after himself but usually after a bit of '“reminding”. His room, not so much. That room is as dizzying as his mind - that mind is constantly running.
Such a busy, creative, intense kid that I love with the same intensity but he can make me very tired. That’s where crochet comes in and saves the day. I could choose to scream into my pillow. I could choose to go for a workout to relieve my frustrations. I have friends that say this workout thing is amazing. Wait, that’s funny. That’s not happening. So instead I choose to create. Usually it’s crocheting something so that I can also pay precious attention to those precious people around me that share this space. When I say “precious”, I mean the house of busy, testosterone-laden males. Sigh.
Our oldest son is an adult now, legally and emotionally. Whew. Made it through one so far. He serves his country through military service, making his own way and we couldn’t be prouder, and you’d think, “Gee, this kid has his head on straight, what else could you ask for?” I know what I ask for. Everyday. I ask for his safety. He’s always been a great kid, always curious about the world around him, always wanting to know how things work. He’s a whiz at figuring out anything mechanical and he loves figuring out what he needs and then making or altering something to achieve that need. With the help of Mike, for example, he planned, helped to pay for and built his own personal computer so that he not only got exactly what he wanted but also kept his costs down and learned valuable skills, all at the tender age of middle-school-ish. So yes. I ask for his safety every day and I create to help keep my mind at ease while my child is out in the world.
I can also sit beside my husband, Mike, if he happens to be watching one of his outdoor shows, pretend I love watching guys sliding down scree-laden hillsides with 40 lbs of gear, scouting out the perfect spot to sit for three days in blizzards with high hopes of even just catching sight of a glorious animal that can feed their families for a year, and I can crochet animals, washcloths, play food, clothes and accessories for said crochet animals, all the while listening to everything that’s going on and nodding in all the right places. You know, kind of like when I start talking about the colors of yarn I need for the next project and all the little parts I’ll need to make for it and Mike nods his head lovingly, showing his appreciation for my creativeness, while probably also thinking about which fly he’s going to tie for his next trip to the water and how he can update the design. See??? We can be creative separately. He is actually very supportive of my creative spurts and I love him for it.
I am constantly researching new stitches, garnering inspiration from not only some really creative designers but also from our love of being outside. I love the shapes, colors, habits and character of mushrooms, woodland critters, insects, plants and how they adapt to whatever we as humans throw at them. Just take a careful peek inside any pile of weeds you leave unattended and you’ll find a myriad insects, lizards, arachnids, fungus, and those things we can’t see are there too. Or glance at a long-untouched growth of trees, how they’ll curl around one another or around a fence or even grow through an abandoned piece of farm machinery. All of this and all of outside can be a wonderful inspiration for creating. Now that I think about it, being outside helps so much with calming and centering me, I think I may go head outside and sketch out a few ideas for some creative projects.
How about you?