I decided to force myself to step away from my computer this morning (amazing, isn’t it, how the internet so often manages to suck you in and drag you away from tangible life?!) and dig through my long-abandoned crochet supplies, in the hopes of rekindling my old interest in fibre arts.
Way back in the fall of 2004 (funny how fall always inspires me) I decided to teach myself to crochet. I bought some basic supplies, set up a crochet blog (of course!), got started on my first potholder, and was immediately hooked (I know, groan). I tried a couple of other small projects, moved on to the predictable beginner-level scarves and dishcloths, then tackled a few slightly more adventuresome projects. Success! I’d found a hobby I enjoyed, that relaxed me, and whose end result was useable items. All good, right?
Unfortunately, a couple of “projects of doom” – a loopy bathmat that went on (and on, and on…) and a mitten crocheted too tightly for even a small child to squeeze a hand into (for obvious reasons I didn’t bother with its pair) – derailed me. Sadly, despite joining Ravelry in 2007 (hoping for a kick in the butt), I haven’t been sufficiently motivated to actually pick up my hooks again.
I never did get to the point where I was a particularly accomplished crocheter, and never mastered the art of the gauge (as evidenced by my doll-sized mitten!), but I remember how much I enjoyed working with hooks and fibres, and the sense of accomplishment and satisfaction achieved from seeing (and using) a finished product… and I want that back.
So today I found my supplies, selected a simple dishcloth pattern, and will spend this rainy afternoon reacquainting myself with a lost love.