A year in yarns

Each time I receive the annual reminder from WordPress that it’s time to renew my blog domain, I cringe at how long it’s been since I’ve written, and wonder if I should keep it. In the 6 years since I walked away from (most forms of) social media, I’ve become less and less used to taking in massive amounts of social information and trying to process and manage relationships that way, and more inclined to nurture my relationships in more direct, intimate ways. Lots of positives there, naturally. I now fully control my intake of news and world events (and people’s opinions about that news), and my family and friends usually remember to text me photos of their kids, vacations, and life highlights. So for the most part, I’m pretty sure that I’m not missing a whole lot that I’d really want to see.

But I do miss the ability to look back and reflect on my own days, weeks, months, and years, and the old habits of documenting my life that social media afforded me. I’ve always been a journaler, but those entries focus on specific thoughts that are helpful to write out in the moment, and less useful as a means of reminiscence. There is still a place for this blog in my life, but I’ve been struggling to figure out how and where it fits.

Enter crochet.

Five months ago, I finally finished the Master of Library and Information Science program that I’d been plugging along at for seven years. Along with the feelings of accomplishment and relief came a lot of questions for me and Marc about what life would look like for us now, if I was unburdened from my lifelong impulses to strive, overwork, and stretch myself too thin. If I could come home from work and actually have nothing to do, who would I be? As it happened, I finished my capstone project in mid-November, so I was distracted from figuring out the answers to those questions for a few months by planning a graduation party amidst the busy-ness of Thanksgiving, Christmas, our wedding anniversary, and celebrating the new year. Come January, it was time to get down to the serious business of learning how to relax.

So obviously, I signed myself up for a class! Just kidding. I mean, I did … but it was a three-session course on the fundamentals of crochet at the San Diego Craft Collective. I’d been doing some research for a work project on the health benefits of active leisure, and in so doing I realized something important that was missing from my life: a hobby. An active (versus passive) hobby that served no real purpose beyond enjoyment. I wanted something I could do at home that was relaxing, and that involved color and creativity, but that didn’t require a lot of stuff, space, or set-up. Crochet felt like a great fit, so I signed up for a class – with two friends, in the real world, rather than trying to teach myself with a book or on YouTube.

Martina from the San Diego Craft Collective was a wonderfully supportive, patient instructor. Here she is, showing us how to start a project in the round, using the “magic circle,” which I then practiced on a flight. Fun fact: crochet hooks are TSA approved!

Three months later, I am officially hooked. (Last crochet pun, I promise.) In the absence of further formal instruction, my skills are developing slowly, but I find myself beginning to see and feel the yarn differently, and new muscle memories developing. After a few initial small projects, I began to teach myself how to make “granny squares,” which are the foundation of a lot of crochet projects. In talking with a friend about this new adventure, she told me about bookish crocheter types who are making “book blankets” out of granny squares made with the colors of the covers of the books that they read. Obviously I love this idea – and as anyone who knows me would guess, I started immediately. Knowledge of how to actually make a granny square be damned.

At the time of writing, I’ve made a granny square for 13 of the 17 books that I’ve read so far this year. I mostly read books from the library, but because I use Goodreads to track my reading I can look back at the covers for inspiration: colors, patterns, and types of yarn. This colorful collection of squares is growing into a really interesting look at my year: what I read, why I chose it, and what I remember about the days or weeks that I was reading it. I’ve been sharing photos of some of the more interesting squares with another friend who loves to read (and is a knitter, so appreciates my fibrous interpretations of the covers), and as it turns out sharing reading recommendations through granny squares is way more fun than Goodreads!

Inspiration has finally struck. I’ve decided to share my year of reading through this blog, By sharing the images of these colorful little squares of yarn, I can also weave together a picture of the time in my life that I was reading its corresponding book. (And no, “weave” doesn’t count as another pun, because I don’t weave my own yarn.) Depending upon how many squares I end up with, I may stitch them together into a little lap blanket for my reading chair, or some other physical artifact of the year. And in the meantime, my blog may again become the set of digital artifacts that I’ve been missing.

I’ve already gone on too long here – learning to pace myself, in all areas of life, is an important lesson I’m learning – so I’ll share books, granny squares, and stories from the month of January in an upcoming post, and then hopefully play some catch up for a few months and get on track with regular posts.

I’ve missed interacting with you here, and am glad to be back. If you’ve read something interesting – or something with a beautiful cover that you’d like to see turned into a granny square! – please drop me a line here, and let me know.