How to Spell Obsession: C-R-O-C-H-E-T

My blog tagline is “True Confessions and Crochet.” Clearly I’ve covered the true confessions part.

And the crochet, you ask? Ay yi yi.

Back in the winter months I was crocheting like a crazy person. I made a character hat or a muffler or an infinity scarf for almost every person in my family. I finished three baby afghans and started three others. I made half a dozen market bags and a dozen potholders.

And granny squares. I used to think a granny square was a granny square was a granny square. Wrong! There are as many different squares as there are minds to conceive color and pattern. And I made dozens and dozens of them, all still waiting to be connected to make hats and bags and blankets.

First I wanted to finish my holiday projects. Next I wanted to finish a handful of projects I had planned for a friend’s baby. After that I thought, dude, I’m so good at this, I ought to open my own Etsy shop.

That’s when I came up with the name “Nervous Knots.” I worked like crazy to build inventory.

I worked until my hand hurt so bad I cried myself to sleep.

I’d obsessively crocheted myself right into hand surgery. Everybody’s heard of carpal tunnel syndrome, but have you ever heard of trigger finger? Yeah, I had that in my left thumb, the hand I used to grip my WIP (that’s crochet speak for “work in progress”) while I hook with my right.

So last February Dr. Hand Surgeon cut two tiny incisions in my left hand and snip, snip, did what they call carpal tunnel release and trigger finger release.

Oh man. Pain free. Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh.

So it’s June now, and I haven’t picked up a hook since January, let alone opened my Etsy shop. I was recovering. I was distracted. I was bingeing on Entourage. I was writing!

And I’m a little scared that if I crochet again I’ll start hurting again.

Funny, that. It’s like trusting…or loving. When the first people charged with your care break that trust, you learn that to trust is to risk pain. To love means you might get hurt.

Pookie and I have been married 28 years. There’s been pain and broken trust, but that’s far outweighed by love and support through the best and the worst times imaginable. We’ve given each other Chewie and Dobby and flu and strep throat. We’ve given each other Sadie and Moxie and scary big vet bills for cat bites and cancer surgery.

So I think maybe today I’ll pick up a WIP and hook a few stitches, just to see how it feels.

Because without sore hands we can’t have warm, hand crafted blankets, and without sore hearts we can’t have love.

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