Last year Rhonda (Chris' mum) gave me a starter crochet kit. It has sat by my bed for a year, waiting for me to get started. On Saturday afternoon I decided to give it a go. After about 10 minutes figuring out a slip knot I spent about 30 minutes trying to get chain stitch. My memories of crochet centre around complete bamboozlement watching Mrs Lucas at our pathfinder club trying to get us to crochet doiles. But there are some funky crochet projects out there now, so I decided I wanted to give it a go again. After an hour I could do chain stitch, but had yet to master turning the work and getting more than one row of crochet. So I undid everything and put it all aside on the table. I have read that trying new things is good for the brain, so maybe at least my brain got some exercise.
This afternoon I came home from work. The girls had been out in the snow most of the day, so were warming up in front of a dvd. I thought Nyama must be watching it also, but she wasn't there. She wasn't cleaning either. Where was she? Sitting down at the table, at least 10 neat rows of crochet in her hands as she worked her way through one of the patterns in my book (the same book that I found so confusing that I turned to youtube tutorials). She looked up and said "I forgot I could do this" - apparently through highschool she had made scarves and hats for all her friends. Oh well, one more thing she can teach me!
I consoled myself by making two curries and a big pile of chapatis for dinner - Nyama can't beat me at that....yet.
