Gradient granny

This is the only photo I have of the kerchief I crocheted for my granddaughter.  And the only item I’ve ever crocheted out of cotton yarn. And the first time I’ve ever blocked a crocheted piece. Blocking is done with water or steam and the piece is wrangled into shape on a thick and thirsty towel whence it dries into the shape it was destined to have.  That explanation completely overlooks the magic though.  When I finished crocheting, the kerchief seemed thick and awkward.  As I dunked it up and down in water it seemed a confusing jumble.  But the moment I spread it out on the towel,  a lacy, light and lovely thing of beauty emerged.  This pattern is called Gradient Granny Kerchief and I think the gradient is so charming.  A dainty picot edge and an open lace gradually transforming into a granny square at the same time.  Flower Child meets Babushka.  

Time will tell

I have a handful of crocheted daisies; leftovers from a long ago project. Will I ever use them all up? Time will tell. 

Granny

 

In 1885, the granny square pattern was published and crochet hooks have rejoiced ever since. The pattern thrives on using a plethora of colors. Leftover lengths of yarn are elevated and celebrated.  It’s just as it should be that two world wars and the Great Depression made the granny square attain crochet 101 standing.  But it was the 1970’s that made it cool.  And if it was cool then, baby it’s cool now.  This groovy sweater has four greens, four purples and three blues, all making encore appearances.  

Little chicks

Why yes

If you buy a ball of yarn, you might feel like crocheting something simple. Something like a square. And if you crochet a square you may find yourself folding it into an envelope and adding a button closure. Book sleeve? Maybe. iPad cover? Why yes!

Kindred

I had expected time to trickle slowly by so arrived armed with a crochet hook and a ball of yarn. I took a seat and when I had exhausted the reading material on the walls and my inner conversation ground to a halt, I plucked my yarn and hook out of my bag and began to crochet. There was a steady hum of activity all around as the door opened and closed and people came and went, came and went and I crocheted on.  An elderly woman entered the room and sat beside me.  She watched my fingers moving and my hook flashing. She reached out and squeezed the ball of yarn.  I held up my project and said, “it’s a granny square. “. And then added, “and I’M a granny!” I don’t know if she understood my words but her eyes seemed to suddenly sparkle with something….courage perhaps, because she reached over and took the crocheting from my hands, yarn, hook and all and began to feverishly crochet.  It seemed as though the waiting room inhaled in unison. “One, one?” She asked. “Yes,” I said nodding and holding up one finger.  “One stitch between, two here. Two at the corner.”  

“Good, good?”she asked holding the crocheting up for my approval.  “Oh yes, very good,” I agreed. 

She handed back the granny square and I showed her pictures on my phone of a baby quilt I had recently finished.  And some crocheted purses. And my husband carving.  She pointed to her foot and cradled an imaginary baby.  Baby booties! “No,” I admitted.  No baby booties yet.  

Aren’t kindred spirits a wonder? 

Unbelievable

 I like to plump up three pillows and settle in amongst my quilts like a chicken in a nest box. A ball or two of yarn, a crochet hook and time is my friend.  There always comes that jolt back into reality though, whence I bundle up yarn and scissors and stow them away for later. Later is usually the next day, and twice now, as I’ve shaken out my quilt while making the bed in the morning, a crochet hook has appeared before my unbelieving eyes.  Whaaaaaaaa??!!

Today, instead of a crochet hook, the light reflected off of a rather large darning needle giving a fresh take on the old adage, “like finding a needle in a haystack.”

three strikes

 

I needed a little rug for my entryway. I pulled assorted friendly colors to create a giant ball. The plan was to crochet five strands at once and make a lovely, variegated, chunky rug. 

 

It was hard on my hands to work with that bulk but it created such a wonderfully thick and cushy feeling underfoot.

But alas, when I placed my first quarter done on the floor I found the door would not open over it. Drat? Too thick!
 

 

I pulled from two balls this time and started in again. But this time, the pattern was my undoing. Basket weave is inherently bulky. And thick. Too thick. Drat again!

I tried again, with two strands and single crochet. But by now my door was wary. It caught the rug here and there. It fretted and fussed. "Three strikes, you're out," I declared to my yarn stash. 

I made tote bags instead.

It is

 

My granddaughter showed me a picture of a pink sweater she liked. Isn't it a gift when someone shares with you their likes and dislikes? 

This sweater was a charmer, with clusters of crocheted cherries scattered over it. Isn't a child's wish a siren call to spring into action?

It took a few months to find a pink sweater that was the right color. Isn't pink a happy color?

And it took a little longer to crochet cherries and leaves. Isn't it exhilarating to learn something new?

And a little longer to stitch them on in just the right spots? Isn't it strange that it takes planning to make things look randomly placed?

Dancing mouse

Have you heard of chocolate cozies? No? I hadn’t either until I gazed in delight at the cover of Amigurumi Chocolate Cozies by Sara Scales. This book has patterns for twenty little crocheted projects. Crocheted cupcakes and crocheted cactus cover chocolate oranges. Rockets, octopi and penguins are destined to hold peanut butter cups and foil wrapped chocolates. My favourite of them all though is a tiny gray mouse in a teeny tiny pink tutu. 

I think the little pink tutu sealed the deal. I had to make it. The pattern was pretty easy to follow and round and round the rows went. Round and round and round. Oh oh! 

There is something that I think of as the rule of small. The rule of small is closely related to the law of cuteness and I had just broken that law by disregarding the rule.  

I’m sure the book suggested a weight of yarn to use and a size of crochet hook. I overlooked that bit. And therefore I didn’t end up with a darling dainty dancing mouse. Instead I found myself gazing in disbelief at a great grey rat. Will a tutu save the day?

twice as nice

 If crocheting with one color is pretty, two is twice as nice.

she asked

 She asked for a bucket hat, green and goggle-eyed.

little friend

 

country cousin

"Would you like a white mouse or a gray one?" I ask.

"A gray one!" she says, emphatically."I don't want a TAME one!"

Ahhhhhhh, a little wild mouse.

Makes me think of the story of the city mouse and his country cousin.

Sleeping under a leaf seems a given and for that matter so does a basket.

 

 

little mouse

 Goodnight little mouse.

one down

 I found a marvelous doily, circa poodle skirt era.

Oh those flowers!

Up-cycling to the resuce! 

A few snips and I had gathered a bowl full.

One down, 43 to go.