Getting Back on the Crocheted Horse

As part of my slow slip into elderly lady land, I dragged Josh to the yarn store to purchase supplies for a blanket-like wrap. It had been a long time since I had entered a yarn store, and I realized I had no clue what I needed or how much.

I showed the woman working there a picture of the blanket, and she commented that it was knitted, not crocheted. There was no reason it couldn’t be crocheted — it was just a rectangle. She argued it would be so much nicer knitted, and I should take a knitting class at the store instead of purchasing the yarn that day. Instead of making the sale, she nudged me out of the store with a list of upcoming classes, cheerfully telling me that she would see me soon.

Ten minutes after we got home, I realized I didn’t want to learn something new. I didn’t want to feel frustrated. I just wanted to mindlessly create row after row, filling up space until I had a tri-coloured blanket to use as a wrap this winter. We took my sister’s advice to head to Joann’s the next day, and we walked out of the store with nine skeins of silky cotton/bamboo yarn in shades of blue and grey.

It’s slow-going because the piece is so large, but I do about a row per day while I talk to the twins on the phone or watch television. It’s nice to have a project again.