Just over a year ago whilst absentmindedly scrolling through Instagram, I came across a piece of absolute sorcery – a video post of a girl crocheting a gorgeous blanket.

I was utterly mesmerized.

I watched her hands effortlessly command the hook and yarn unveiling a masterpiece of neat stitches and rows.

“Heck yeah! I’m gonna give this a try”.

I didn’t realise at the time, but I was about to fall head first into a world of magic.

Squishy. Soft. Sumptuous. Silky. YARN

And the colours. Oh the colours! Endless palettes and combinations.

And hooks. The hooks! Aluminum. Wood. Resin.

And patterns – don’t forget the patterns!

Stitch markers. ‘Hand Made By…’ tags and labels. Sewing needles and pins. Tape measure. Blocking boards. A hand steamer.

And books! Books about crochet!

Storage tubs to keep everything in – I needed those too!

I scrolled, and scrolled, and scrolled some more.

“Yeah, this is totally ME”.

Two days into my journey and I hadn’t even learned to chain yet. But in my mind I was an accomplished crocheter. Indeed, I had already elevated myself to full on ‘FIBER ARTIST’.

Off I went to buy a hook and a random ball of yarn. I hadn’t a clue what I was buying. But I was doing it.

“Yay, look at me in the yarn shop being all crafty and knowing exactly what I’m buying and what type of project it’s for”.

NOT.

I chose a gray acrylic (6 balls seemed about right!), 2 balls of bright pink, and a 5mm hook. The cashier asked what I was making.

“A rectangle”, I said confidently.

At home I turned to YouTube.

Search: how to crochet…

Twenty minutes later (and a LOT of ‘stop, start, and rewind’ video action), I had a loose chain and a wibbly-wobbly row of single crochets. Rather delighted, I had a celebratory coffee and declared myself a crochet extraordinaire!

In pursuit of perfection I removed my hook and pulled my working yarn. Blip, blip, blip went the stitches one by one until I was left with nothing.

And it was that easy to undo and redo until my grip, dexterity, and technique became something other than clumsy fumbling.

“…single crochet, single crochet, single crochet, turn, chain one, repeat…”

I mouthed the words as I went along until my rectangle was complete. At that stage I became aware it was now night time and my left hand was in a cramp.

But the feeling of satisfaction and accomplishment was something I hadn’t encountered before.

I’ve had millions of hobbies in the past (that number reflects how long I’ve stuck to them), but this one was different. This one had captured me. This was my calling.

It was time for bed. Reluctantly I placed my hook, yarn, and rectangle aside. I stared at my work for 10 minutes marvelling at my perceived brilliance.

“Are you coming to bed?”, my husband asked.

I sighed.

“Yeah”.

When I finally closed my eyes, stitches and rows darted across my mind. Colours and patterns danced around my head, and oh the endless possibilities!

Even my dreams that first night were made of crochet.

Today, as I write this, I have no less than 18 different works in progress on the go. Obscene, I know, but I’m truly obsessed with it.

I’ll be sharing my thoughts and projects over the next few months and hope to meet folks as captivated with crochet as I am 🙂