In a recent post I mentioned that I had re-taught myself to crochet. This was necessitated by extreme pain in my right hand (and some in my left) that made knitting a no-go. I suspect that the pain was due in part to a whole lot of knitting-for-babies last year, as well as the cardigan[s] I knitted for myself and this shawl (which I'll admit I was determined to finish even once the pain started).
As with most of my craft endeavours, I tend to become a little obsessive, and rush to the finish line rather than enjoying the process, so the blanket I started in January is nearing completion. Another evening in front of TV and the border should be done.
The border, as with another project I have started, is the result of a happy mistake. I had found instructions online and written them down, but when I came to do the border I tried working it from memory. As a result, I got it wrong, and yet it worked. And I like it and I've decided not to correct it.
The same is true for these little hexagons. Not happy with some of my centres in the granny squares, I looked for alternate ways to work them. I quite liked the look of ones that began with circles, and decided to start there. But, again, when it came time to make those circles into squares, our internet was down and so I again tried doing it from memory. Part-way into the last round, I realised I was making hexagons rather than squares. I undid the round and reworked it, only to discover I preferred the look of the hexagon to the square. So I undid it again and reworked the hexagon. And now I have plans to use up all my little scraps (each round takes so little yarn!) into a hexagon blanket that reminds me of the beautiful English paper-pieced hexagon quilts that I've never had the patience to make.
But that's for another day. Meanwhile, the granny square blanket that is almost done is not perfect. Several of the blocks are decidedly crooked. This despite blocking. One in the centre is particularly obvious. Maybe its skew-whiffiness can be blamed on a pre-Cyclone Gabrielle gust of wind that lifted it off the table on the veranda and upended it on the ground. Or maybe it's because I was talking on the phone to my mum while I was sewing some of the blocks together and somehow managed to sew this one in all wrong and had to undo it. (There is no way to describe how I sewed it in except to say I made a kind of pocket). Or maybe it's because it was still damp when I sewed it in place, having given up waiting for it to dry especially after I had to bring it inside after the gust that appeared to ruin my blocking party.
Whatever the reason, it's crooked. And I kind of like it.
Even though this blanket is not perfect, it makes me happy. I feel satisfied that I made something with my own two hands out of scraps of yarn. Scraps from the cardigans I've knitted for myself in recent years. Scraps from jackets I made for The Most Charming Grandsons. Scraps from knitted items that I've unravelled: sleeves of a jumper that I turned into a vest; socks whose feet had worn out but the legs were still in good condition; a cardigan I never wore. Scraps from donated yarn from projects The Most Adorable Granddaughters were working on. Scraps from the that possum-merino yarn that never seemed to work with any pattern I chose. Scraps both big and small. And the best of it was that I only cut into my "stash" for the border yarn, and even then, I could have used some green that I had left over, but I like the undyed yarn that to my eye, makes the blanket pop.
And I love that the blanket goes so well with my rocking chair. As if they belong together. One day that blanket will warm a cold lap on a winter's night. Or be used as an additional blanket on a baby's cot/crib. Or perhaps a toddler will snuggle under it. And then it won't matter that it's not perfect.
She seeks wool and flax,
And willingly works with her hands.
She is not afraid of snow for her household.
For all her household is clothed with scarlet.
Proverbs 31:13 & 21, NKJV
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