Absent by Crochet

I suppose I should make an apology.  Really, it would only be fitting. To just suddenly be absent from my bloggity blog, could easily be construed as rude.  Wait.  I can explain.  


You may remember this.  My innermost desire to learn the yarny craft of crochet.  Well, the yarn did fly. And the trusty book describing in word and diagram the common stitches necessary to mastering the art of crochetery has become dog-eared and worn.  My patience has been worn quite thin and despair has lurked around every treble crochet.  This story does, in fact, have a satisfactory, even happy ending.


An epiphany did occur. I can assure you Our Lady is adept at recognizing epiphanies. A dear reader was the instigator of said epiphany.  She related a similar experience with a nasty hook.  She reportedly took control and determined to hold her yarn as SHE desired.  Loosely.  "Hmmmm", said I.  And as I loosened my grip on my own yarn and the loop was easily pulled up and thence through the loops on said hook, I swear I did hear the angels sing.  


And so the crochet floodgates were opened.  I am as a woman possessed. Humble dishcloths, coasters, and yes, even a slightly irregular granny square have materialized as if by magic.  Oh the wonders the interwebs have provided in the way of any manner of patterns.  All provided free for the taking by kind souls I can only suppose have walked my path.  

Now the yarn lust spoken of by so many others does grip me.  I covet the different weights and textures and colors.  Oh, the colors.  I have confined myself to the purest of whites.  A color recommended for learning.  Now, this could get quite boring. And quickly.  However, white is also the perfect color for a few whimsical, quirky, spirit-lifting, wintery garlands.  I yarn over and slip stitch with this in mind.  I have only a few pieces so far.  A humble few soon to be joined by others and strung on a piece of lace to adorn a wall or a soffit.  To ward off the winter doldrums.   

Wicked Taskmaster

And so have I entered into a difficult, somewhat adversarial relationship.  Admittedly, I did this willingly. There was no arm twisting or blackmail involved.  


However, there was a distinct desire.  A desire to learn a yarny craft. Our Lady has found herself envious of the yarn lust experienced by so many.  Soft, cushy, beautiful balls of untouched yarn seem to make otherwise sane women lose their heads, swoon and forget their responsibilities.  Half-forgotten, fond memories of knitting plague me recently.  
However, projects of the two needle variety are not the stuff of my desire now.  Not at all.  I have felt drawn to wrap my yarn around a single.....hook.  


Oh yes. Our Lady has caught crochet fever.  Even as I suffer the chills and sniffles of a wretched cold, I MUST attempt to learn to count chains, identify a back ridge, make a slip stitch. Oh,the tortures are endless. 

Alas, I am not experiencing the fond, fruitful relationship so many of you crafty crafters seem to share with your crochet hook. For the present, my foe shall be known as Wicked Taskmaster. Although he appears quite unassuming, I assure you this is not the case. You see him here....the lovely  blue one.  


Ah well. We shall come to terms he and I.  The yarn will most assuredly fly.