I laid out all the squares today to see how they looked.
Here they are in all their glory:
Now that I can see them not only as they are individually, but how the colors and designs interact with each other, I am considering changing the last round of one of the squares, and I am giving serious thought to redoing Square D-4 (top row, second from left), as I’m not certain that the expanse of yellow works as I had thought it would.
But other than that, I am pleased on many levels. Pleased that I have finished the squares, pleased to be moving forward on the piecing, and pleased to have met so many interested and interesting people along the way to finishing this project.
Today, as I waited for my son to finish his choir practice, I sat outside at a nearby store with a cup of coffee and worked on a long seam of the-afghan-that-has-eluded me. While I was busy with that, a woman stopped to tell me how beautiful and colorful my crochet was.
She then shared that her grandmother had taught her to knit. The woman had not knitted for many years, but had recently picked up the craft again and was adding to the the skills her grandmother had taught her. The story was particularly poignant because the grandmother now suffers from the late stages of Alzheimer’s Disease, and is no longer able to share with her granddaughter the knowledge she once had.
But these threads and the stitches that we create with them are what bind us one to the other.
I also want to thank the people who took the time to comment on yesterday’s entry in which I asked the question, is there such a thing as a crochet emergency?
It is nice to know that there are others out there who are as devoted to their craft as I am to mine. So often we work in seclusion (although our families might not experience it that way with all of the crafting gear strewn about our living spaces), it is wonderful to connect with and hear the voices of others who are busy developing their crafting skills while forging ties to our pasts and our futures.