I recently finished crocheting this scarf with a scalloped edging. I could say that I meant to complete it just as the winter season is coming to an end, so that I’d have something fresh and bright to cheer up the last of the cold gloomy days. But really the reason is that I didn’t get the urge to pull out my hook until last month.
While I have been crocheting steadily since I was seven, I’m not someone who always has a project on the go. Rather hindsight tells me that I will crochet only one or two pieces a year, but not a single year will go by without making something.
Hindsight is interesting in what it tells you a lot about yourself. By taking a look back you can see what it is that you truly enjoy doing, because you keep on doing it.
While at various times in my life I have painted, drawn, made silver jewellery, played trumpet, guitar and keyboard, done macrame, pottery, knitting, cross-stitching, needlepoint, rug-hooking, sewing and embroidering, I see the constants that I have kept doing. These are photography, crocheting, growing plants, playing chess and singing, all of which I have been doing since I was a child, and still like to (need to?) do today. Another constant has been seeing/hearing new music performed live in small venues, but this began after I had reached drinking age, as said small venues are usually licensed bars with +19 years or age required.
‘The proof is in the pudding’ as they say. Curious about that saying, I just looked it up and its meaning becomes more clear when looking at the longer phrase that, over time, has been shortened to those six words. ‘The proof of the pudding is in the eating’ is the very old proverb (early 14th century) from which the saying comes. It means that, in order to fully test something you have to prove it yourself.
With crocheting, it seems to be the coldest time of the year when I am inside more, that the ongoing tugging at my brain to sink my fingers into some yarn takes over. The thoughts of steadily drawing a small metal hook, in, out and around, making neat, even uniform stitches, will linger until I make something. And then, once a project is complete, the urge goes away for a while. But I know it will come back; it always does.
How about you? What does hindsight tell you about what you really love to do? What proof is in your pudding?