I can't stop crochet-ing everything. That's what happened. I visited My Grandma and she showed me how and now I can't stop. Please don't stand still wearing a t-shirt because it will be awkward when I slip it off you and deftly swip the bottom into a block that I can transform into a honking long piece of t-shirt yarn super lickity split and then frantically begin to make a rug from your clothing. (In case you missed it, go here to learn how to do that. It's a Ninja-like skill we all should have in these uncertain times.)
First, I made this rug.
Okay, so it's the only crochet-ed thing I've finished, but I'm working on another one now.
Plus, I braided one. (Because when you walk into your Grandma's house and she has a gorgeously hand-braided rug that she and your grandfather made when they lived in German in 1950 and it looks like it arrived the day before yesterday, you start wildly braiding. It just seems like the right thing to do.)
And yes, it's a rombus, but I'd rather not focus on that at this time.
Also, while I was visiting her, I finished a quilt. I finished quilting a quilt, I mean--it's one of that stack of my great grandmother's quilts I've been staring at for more than a year almost two years now.
I finally figured out (while in proximity to my creatively-smart Grandma) that I ought to just do a straight forward quilting stitch on the thing and not torture myself that I have a short-throated machine. I decided to embrace my inner Tiny Pfaff and just make the thing happen.
And I finished another quilt (that one I posted about last time.)
And I got inspired and came home and am about 14 inches of hand-sewn-binding away from finishing finished another that's been staring at me since I had darker hair. (I'll show you that one later, I swear.)
I think she slipped me a mickey or something. I've hit kind of slump these past months, and I spent a week with my grandma and came back my same, Make Crazed self.
It feels lovely to be myself again.