I opened a plastic bin. I rediscovered these squares. They were from a crochet internet group I was a part of. We made squares of a certain size and sent them all over the world. It was so fun. Each package was a treasure. I packed mine away in one of the infamous plastic bins to be dealt with at a later date.
This is the later date.
I took them out and began stitching them together. I began with a random selection and it was horrid. So, I tore it all out and began again. I tried to make some sense of the plethora of colors, patterns, and squares. Some of the pieces still had tags on them from South Dakota, New Zealand, Maine and more. What a special piece this will be.
When I work on this blanket, my mind wanders to the numerous afghans my mother made. I remember and still own, several from Nana D, my mom and even quilts from my grandmother. Working with my hands is good for my spirit. I love the tactile flow of wool, the odd colors of synthetics and the stitches that bring them together. I love the click of the knitting needles and the warmth of a crochet hook in my hand.
This is why I love to manipulate fibres of any sort. Leaves, twigs, bamboo, grasses, and more. At school, I am currently creating handmade paper with a very eager student. It is always my dream to pass along my love of fibre to youngsters surrounded by steel, cement, and uninspired architecture.
Manipulation…it’s a good thing!