Crocheting

The other day I dragged a large Rubbermaid container full of Caroline's Barbie dolls and accessories from the basement at Caroline's request. As we explored the contents together, we found Barbie doll clothes Mom had made 25 years ago. Several were period costumes from colonial America, prairie outfits, and even an Abe Lincoln outfit for Ken complete with a long-tailed jacket and stove pipe hat. Included with Abe's suit was a Mary Todd Lincoln dress, floor length with tiny ruffles cascading down the back made of the same calico fabric as the dress. Caroline and I slowly examined her craftsmanship full of wonder at the time Mom must have put in to making these tiny, intricate pieces of clothing on her old, black Singer sewing machine. The very sewing machine she gave to Caroline and Rob a couple of years ago.

As we continued to explore the treasure chest, we found expertly crocheted Barbie skirts, dresses, and gowns that fit the doll perfectly. Both Caroline and I were filled with wonder looking at them, both of us so aware of the recent attempts Mom has made at crocheting these days. It seems that Mom can't follow the instructions any more. Whatever she tries to crochet doesn't look like the picture at all. She's made a stuffed owl, turtle, giraffe, and is right now working on a little elephant. None of which look like the colorful picture in the crochet book.

It doesn't seem to phase Mom though. She somehow can't recognize the differences when she compares her finished project to the picture. So she keeps on crocheting and buying crochet books. In fact, just last evening when we made a quick trip to Ben Franklins because I needed some seam binding for a sewing project of mine, the first thing she did when we entered the store was look to see if there were any new crochet magazines. And she bought two more skeins of yarn! She spends most of her waking hours in her rocking chair, instructions in front of her, crochet hook in hand, working away.