Thursday, November 25, 2010

The Forty-Two Year Old Christmas Wreath

I am not a crocheter.  I may sometimes be a bit crotchety, which has nothing to do with crocheting.  Well, that depends whether crocheting makes you irritable, in which case you might be called crotchety, but there's always knitting.

I had a younger brother whose teacher taught his class to crochet little woolen wreaths to give to their mothers to wear as Christmas pins.  He presented it, slightly lopsided but lovingly flawed, to Mom and she wore it faithfully for years until it became an indistinguishable green lump with bits of faded red ribbon.  I always wanted one and when my oldest son was in first grade, I made one for his teacher and one for myself.  I didn't have a pattern--just a memory--and took my rudimentary skills from a book like this little "Dell Purse Book."
Twenty five cents worth of pure knowledge and inspiration served me well.  Here's the result, still intact.
Not sure how my son's teacher liked hers, but I have worn mine every Christmas for over forty years, and here's my favorite way to wear it:
Honestly, though, I am just to crotchety to be a crocheter.

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