It Can Wait
An unfinished project isn't a chore you're behind on. A little reassurance for a grey day: it can wait, and so can you.
An unfinished project isn't a chore you're behind on. A little reassurance for a grey day: it can wait, and so can you.
A sunny, high-seventies day in Maine, and a gentle reminder to get outside while the sun's out. The making will keep. This day won't.
There's a new wrap starting on my hook, a slow gift for a friend, and a reminder of the particular warmth that comes from making something for someone you love.
A humid, storm-coming Tuesday in Maine, a corner-to-corner wrap at its turning point, and the first real thought of fall on the hook.
It is one of those cloudy, low-sky days where the rain cannot quite decide whether to commit. The kind of day that would feel like a waste if you had big plans, and feels like a small gift if you do not. I do not. So there is yarn.
A crochet pattern looks like a wall of tiny letters and numbers the first time you meet one. Sc, dc, ch, rep from *, (2 sc, inc) around. It reads like tax code. That look is where a lot of people quietly decide crochet is not for them. It is not
Well, here we are. First entry. I sat on this one for a couple of days, mostly because I couldn't figure out how to start, which, when you think about it, is a pretty on-brand problem for a place about slowing down. So here's the