I finally found something to do during my not-so-busy-Christmas season
After missing Thanksgiving due to a health issue (okay, the stupid back again), I wondered just what this girl was going to do.
I’ve thought of many ideas, but each one needed something that I didn’t much have at the moment; mobility. One idea that’s floated through my brain for months came to mind — relearn how to crochet. Not quite the thrill of driving a race car or playing with baby donkeys or anything remotely more exciting than sitting on the couch. I really wanted to make a giant, elegant blanket like the ones I had made in my 20s; one using four strands of yarn and a giant Q needle.
My mom was left-handed and brilliant. She not only transcribed Braille for students, she transcribed math books for them. She was definitely capable of conveying how to crochet to me, a right-handed person. Wish she was still here, dammit! She could help me figure out how to begin.
It took many hours to find a blanket/throw on the internet, that wasn’t the typical afghan pattern of zig-zag browns and oranges. I found one on Etsy and before I bought the pattern, I’d lost where I had saved the site. Then I found it and then lost it again. No matter how frustrated I felt, I continued to search for the pattern again. Finally finding it, I messaged it to myself.
During my search, I saw a bulky scarf that I liked. That would be much simpler, especially without my mom’s help. I bought the pattern. That was the easy part. Downloading it was another matter. After reading the fine print I realized I could only access the download from my iPad or from my laptop. Things were simple after that, except where to save it. I emailed it to myself. Easy peasy. You must realize that I’m not a dunderhead, that I taught myself graphic design, taught myself how to successfully photograph weddings of every religion and people of every color, that I could figure out computer problems without needing help. Yet now, it’s as if my brain has gone on vacation. Maybe turning into a cat lady has fogged my brain. Damn cats!
My friend Mabel told me about a yarn store in Ukiah, so on our recent visit to Ukiah, we scheduled a visit to Heidi’s Yarn Haven.
Once in Ukiah, we found the shop, which was a kaleidoscope of colors. Filled with yarns of every material; wool, cotton, cotton blend, to name a few. I quickly eliminated anything with wool as I’m deathly allergic to wool (Think of me as a 7-year-old, eager learn to ski, except for wearing red rubber boots as ski boots, with wool socks my mom gave me – never again!).
Heidi, the owner of the shop looked at my scarf directions and easily figured out how much yarn I’d need and what size crochet hook I’d have to use to get the chunky effect I wanted. Two women sat at a round wood table in the cozy shop, quietly working on projects of their own. They both said that when their patterns confused them, they came and Heidi sorted them out. I figured I’d be sitting at the table with them straight away. Not quite the adventure of learning to hang glide or jumping out of an airplane, but certainly one that breached the bridge of time from when my mom first taught me to crochet.
My mom would probably be more comfortable with me crocheting rather than the race car thing, or diving with sharks. She was a worrier in her later years, or maybe I just noticed it more. When she lived in Marin, I visited her from L.A. and went out with a friend of Los Lobos to their gig in San Francisco. After their gig, we all went to see Dr. John (the late singer and songwriter) at his late night gig. I arrived back at my mom’s around 3 a.m., only to learn she had called a friend of mine in Los Angeles to find out where I was. Seriously? I doubt that I would have done any WGTD adventures while she was alive and kicking. She’d already persevered though my several marriages/divorces, no sense to stress her with outlandish adventures.
Now my friend Mabel has turned into my worrier. “She cares about you,” said Bart, Mabel’s husband. That’s why she tries to “direct” me toward “safe” adventures. Well, crocheting a scarf is about as safe as wrapping presents (and more fun).
What’s a girl to do?…crochet a scarf for Mabel…in a Christmasy red and green. Happy holidays to one and all!
Lucy Llewellyn Byard is currently a freelance journalist for the Record-Bee. You can email her at lucywgtd@gmail.com
