As a 7-year-old, I and several cousins were taught to crochet by great-aunt Biddie who had a mysterious disability and limped about using a dark wooden walking stick, a fearsome Irish lady with impressive eyebrows and a stern stare.
We were taught, sitting in a row on her sofa, hooks in our little hands, wool at our sides which we’d helped roll into manageable balls from huge skeins. She taught us our craft with much seriousness and no room for error…she ruled our little crochet class with those eyebrows and her loud Irish voice – not a barrel of laughs at times apart from being slightly tipsy post-mid-morning snack…
That’s right, tipsy.
As it turned out, despite abject terror of the elderly great-aunt and the fact our snacks consisted of bottles of Babycham (complete with those ridiculous wax-paper straws) and ready salted crisps; which she allowed us to help ourselves to from a large cupboard next to the fire-place in her living room!
I learnt the craft of crochet well, so much so that when I decided to pick up a hook again a year or so ago, and crochet my first afghan blanket, it took me no time at all to re-learn using both muscle-memory and you-tube videos – tip – the American ones are the best!
Not only did I crochet a ‘cuddle-blanket’ for my loved-up friends, Jools and John, as a Christmas present, I went on to make one for myself which I’m smugly pleased with.
Thankfully and despite the best efforts of the Irish branch of the family, I turned out to be a better crafter than an alcoholic!
Jool's and John's Christmas present!
The newest creation; Thanks to Youtube and hard work!
Look at how fluffy it is!