I’ve become a crocheting fool.

I learned to crochet as a small child. A very small child. I joke that my Gram and great aunts put a crochet hook in my baby fingers as soon as my eyes focused, but I do remember sitting on the couch, I think at my Uncle Jim’s, crocheting endless chains with a great aunt. I’m not sure which one, there was a herd of them. Probably the one who lived closest. We moved away when I was 5, so I was 3 or 4. Three, I think, because by the time I was 4 I had graduated to doll blankets with uneven edges. I had a hard time with the chain before turning the row thing. Anyway, I (probably literally) cut my teeth on a crochet hook.

After I discovered knitting a few years later, I more or less abandoned crochet, except for afghans. I remember an angst-y summer in my teens spent absorbed in crocheting a yellow and white afghan of good ol’ Red Heart acrylic. 12 inch solid granny squares in a checkerboard pattern, it was mindless and soothing to make and actually turned out quite pretty. I used that thing for years, and then I think it was handed down as a dog bed for our beloved golden retriever Bailey.

Apparently this is the year I am returning to my crochet roots. I haven’t made a crocheted garment in years, because yeah, it’s heavier and bulkier and eats yarn like no other, but I found two sweater patterns that called to me, and then a tote, and then an adorable small backpack.

The backpack’s recommended yarn is Lion Brand 24/7, and it happens to come in the dance studio’s colors. I’ll show it to the dancer and see if she’d like me to make one for her; I think it would be great for corralling ballet shoes and brushes and hairpins. The new ballet teacher is truly a lovely woman who comes from a serious ballet school, and she has standards: bun and leotard and tights are a must, the students must look like ballet dancers.

Ballet is often between other dance classes on the same afternoon, so that is not as easy as it sounds. She’s not a ballet student; she’s a dance student who may have acrobatic before ballet and hip hop after. Last time I dropped her off for dance, one of her classmates was digging in her own backpack to help Delaney whip her hair into a semi-proper bun. A smaller bag for ballet essentials seems like a good idea, but I’ll get buy-in before investing time and money. I’m starting with the bags, just to get my skills back before I start on a sweater.

Sophie is still with us, but today she slept almost all day, and when she went out to potty, it was that awful incredibly smelly spray again. It doesn’t smell like dog poop. It doesn’t even smell like “typical” diarrhea. It’s almost like a chemical odor, and truly horrible. I ordered the last ditch try Hail Mary Pass antibiotic, it is being delivered because I can’t get across town during the compounding pharmacy’s banker’s hours. I will start her on it immediately of course, and we have two weeks from then to see if it makes a difference. If it doesn’t, we are out of options.

Tomorrow is Monday again. Bleh.

2 thoughts on “I’ve become a crocheting fool.”

  1. Poor Sophie, and poor you. What about asking the vet whether it’s an idea to supplement Sophie with a probiotic? All the antibiotics have probably stripped her poor innards of any protection she might ever have had. Does it work the same way in dogs as in humans? ‍♀️

    1. She’s already on a probiotic. Believe me, we’ve tried just about everything. Sometimes there will be some improvement, but it doesn’t last. The last antibiotic we tried had always worked in the past, now it doesn’t. The latest and greatest medicine should arrive today. Fingers are crossed.

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