Hooked for Life by Mary Beth Temple Read Free Book Online Page B

to help us shorten our sentences or we would never be quiet long enough to get any crocheting done!
    One last example:
    “No, I haven’t started that sweater yet, I am still swatching to get gauge,”
loosely translates to, “Even though it is a fall sweater and November is rapidly approaching like an oncoming freight train, I am making annoying little square after annoying little square after annoying little square in my pattern stitch, using every freaking sized hook I own (including using two sizes on alternate rows because I am just that anal retentive) because I cannot for the life of me get anything remotely resembling the number of stitches per inch that the designer got, and if I can’t solve this problem I am going to have a sweater to fit a three-year-old or the World’s Tallest Man, when what I wanted was a woman’s size medium. I think I am going back to afghans. And don’t ask me again!”
    As you spend more and more time in the crochet community, you, too, will pick up words to express your passion for crochet. And some of them you might actually be able to say in front of your children without fear that they will get in trouble for repeating them at school.

Crocheting In Public
    If a poll were taken on hobbies, crochet would be found among the top five favorites. Certainly there are very few: hobbies you can take with you to luncheons, picnics, and Aunt Emma’s tea party… relaxing soothing and strictly non-strenuous, crochet is a complete rest
—
cure to be taken in easy sittings.
    —Elizabeth L. Mathieson,
The Complete Book of Crochet,
1946
    I am rarely without a hook and a ball of yarn within grabbing distance. It’s as if I have a wooly umbilical cord that will only let me get so far away from the possibility of needlework, and I don’t want to get too far lest it snap and cut off some vital nutrients. Crochet, for me, is an ambulatory mood-altering substance that is both completely legal and unlikely to spill and make a mess. No matter how long I am stuck in traffic, how many people are in front of me in line, how late my daughter’s class runsleaving me stuck in the carpool lane, if I have something to crochet I am not wasting time. And therefore, I am less likely to want to murder whoever is responsible for the holdup. The world around me is a better place if I have some crocheting to do, both for me and for those I must interact with. Trust me on this, for I know it to be true.
    I started bringing crochet projects to school during the middle school years and quickly discovered which teachers cared and which didn’t. I am pretty sure I finished a poncho during eighth grade honors English—as long as my work was done and done well, Mr. Beckett didn’t care what I did with the other parts of my brain. Mr. James, however, who taught social studies, was insistent that he required my full attention and my hands to be still. I disliked Mr. James fairly intently—until it turned out he was a needleworker, too. He sat in on my sewing class one day (I have no idea why) and taught me a cool trick for untangling threads during hand sewing. But I digress. Middle school gave me the guidelines for crocheting through my continuing education—prove you know your stuff, quietly bring out some needlework at an opportune time, and see if the professor freaks out or not. If s/he does, give up for a while and try again after midterms. If s/he doesn’t, bonus!
    But what about those joyous occasions that require almost constant interaction with those around you, whether you like it or not? Situations that are arguably less stressful, such as luncheons, picnics, and Aunt Emma’s tea party? Madame Mathieson’s advice aside, there are often places where I am just itching to get some quality time with my current work-in-progress but experience has taught me that whipping out the hook is going to cause me some grief. Weddings, religious services, school plays, dance recitals … while I understand that these