Tuesday, October 18, 2005


I have a crochet hook. A Boye aluminum crochet hook. Size J, color blue. Just like who-know-how-many-other Boye aluminum crochet hooks. Except this one is MY crochet hook. Ya follow?

There is something comforting and comfortable about this hook. I keep it on my nightstand, as most of my knitting is done sitting on my bed. It is in easy reach there. Every bit of crocheting I do (which isn't that much, really) is done with this hook. Don't care what a pattern calls for, necessarily. If a J hook won't look too abominably out of proportion, a J hook will I use.

Last night, I needed to seam up the second of a pair of mittens. Reach over to the nightstand for my hook --- it's not there. Momentary panic. Where is it? Could it be lost? Again?

Several months ago, I lost my blue crochet hook. Misplaced it, as it turned out, but gone is gone. I needed a crochet hook. And even though I wanted my blue one, I told myself, as a thinking, rational adult,

"Come on! Go buy another aluminum hook, size J. Blue, if they have it. It will be the same thing. You're being ever-so-slightly ridiculous."

Off to the store I go. I'm sure you saw this coming: they didn't have any blue hooks in stock. Flash of panic.

"Just get one. Geez! It's a crochet hook, for crying out loud! It's not like having to match blood types!"

I bought a pink one. It wasn't the same. I found my blue one later, heaved a gargantuan sigh of relief, and left the pink crochet hook to the Fates. (To this day, if I had to find it, I don't think I could.)

So there I am last night, without my blue hook. Several painful seconds pass before I realize it's probably in the den, where I had finished a baby bonnet over the weekend. Now, all I had to do was get up and walk the few feet down the hall to get my blue hook, and all would be well.

But. . . Were you ever so comfy, so perfectly fitted into a place and a moment and a "groove" of work that distrubing it in any way was anathema? That's where I was last night. And, besides, a lovely bamboo crochet hook, size J, was on my nightstand. Within easy, non-interrupting reach.

I've never used a bamboo crochet hook before. This was a gift, and it is pretty. And since I knew where my blue hook was, I rationalized the bamboo's use. Heck, I should give it a try, I thought. Can't hurt.

You see this coming, too, don't you?

WHY, oh WHY didn't I get up and get my blue Boye aluminum crochet hook? I got the mitten seamed (there's part of me that was muttering against being bested by a piece of wood, no matter how many stitches dropped or got split), but it wasn't the same. And as I went through the house before bed, turning out all the lights, I paused in the den to look at my blue hook. I felt unfaithful, somehow. Yet I was comforted knowing it was still here, forgiving and willing to take on the next project.

It is going back on my nightstand. May it never wander far again.


At 11:24 AM, Blogger Tanya Nichols said...

I loved that! May your blue J crochet hook never leave you...hehe


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