Fast forward several years later and I was expecting my first baby. I just new I wanted to tackle that pattern again. I was on bed rest, but crocheting was one of the only activities I could do. My mom came out to help out while I was on bed rest and I knew it would be perfect to get her help with the border when I needed it. Except this time, the border went without a hitch. My mom helped me more with the main body (because I got a bee in my bonnet about knitting the middle), but I didn’t have issues with the border. How did that happen? It happened because in between those two baby blanket attempts I had done oodles of other projects with mistakes I had to rip out. Trying different things over and over got me to the point where not only did I know how to troubleshoot issues, but also how to avoid them in the first place.

More than that, it taught me how to shape things. So now I can add ruffles when I want (like the Olivia Ruffle Headband and Getaway Spa Set) and avoid them otherwise. Learning what works and doesn’t work helps me to come up with new ideas and make them into finished products. The screw ups and perseverance taught me not just how to read patterns, but how to improvise. This skill is what brings me the most joy with crocheting now. It feels incredibly empowering, though most of it was learned through struggles or painstaking hours of trial and error.

This makes me cautiously optimistic we may find this sort of growth on the other side of the pandemic. It can’t make up for all that we’ve lost, but we may get some pandemic power-ups to show for it. I learned how to multitask distance learning and working from home at the same time. I learned new ways of having fun as a family. I learned it is possible to do a big Google Hangout with families spread across the globe. I learned how to BBQ.  None of these things is earth shattering, but they expand my repertoire and I’m grateful to have these newly acquired skills.

As my kids enter the year ahead, still filled with ridiculous amounts of uncertainty, I really do hope they will learn how to troubleshoot when things don’t go how you want, the value of perseverance and the new power ups you can unlock when you’re forced to learn and adapt. Pushing through the challenging is so so worth it because you unlock new abilities and a vast amount of untapped joy on the other side and that's the thing I hope the kids learn above anything else this school year.

I’m thrilled to unveil the pattern for another one of my “Velveteen Rabbit Potential” projects from my big yarn buy last year. The Herringbone Haze Infinity Scarf was my first project in super bulky yarn. And it was. Super. Bulky. When I was getting testers for the pattern, they kept trying their super chunky yarn, but it was never chunky enough. I didn’t realize that once you hit the super bulky threshold, yarn weight measurements go out the window. Everything is lumped together, whether it’s 25 or 250 yards for each 100g hank.

I designed this scarf to accomplish 2 things. 1) Make good use of the chunk factor to lift and define a stitch pattern that would otherwise be small or get lost. 2) Play up the fuzz factor to celebrate how close it is to working with straight up wool roving. I’m really happy with where I got to. The fact the yarn was so huge that the scarf was lightning fast to make was an added bonus. In the process of making this, I realized a couple of things about why I love crocheting so much.

Firstly, I was looking into entering a project into the Royal Easter Show, but decided against it. For my Stateside friends, this is the equivalent of a state fair. An autumnal celebration of agriculture, arts, crafts and all the food you could possibly wish for. (Sadly, no cheese curds here, but since Aussie potato scallops are a regular at the Minnesota State Fair, I think it’s just a matter of time before cheese curds cross the Pacific.) The Easter Show has an enourmous range of arts and craft entries with a significant crochet contingency. You need to submit your entries more than two months before the show. I had factored this in for 2019, but as I read through the 40 page rules, I was surprised by one of the requirements. Anything you enter must never have been worn or used. I’m sure the rationale behind this is to hold the high standards for exhibits and to ensure entries are not soiled or stretched. Imagine if a pie entry was already partially eaten. Not a great way to shine. This is probably similar to what they’re trying to avoid. But this was one requirement I just didn’t feel comfortable with, but I wasn’t exactly sure why.

The second and more full revelation occurred while our family was at the Powerhouse Museum. The full name is the Museum for Applied Arts and Sciences (MAAS). They have everything from electricity experiments to old performance costumes, a giant steam engine and an Apple II E computer (complete with floppy disk drive). I feel a connection with the exhibits at this museum more than most and I found myself wondering why. As I walked through a section of vintage Chinese home decor I realized that it’s the “applied” aspect of the art that grabs me. It’s one thing to create soaring, provocative art that makes you think, but it’s a different thing to make something meant to be touched and interacted with. The ability to marry form and function adds a layer of meaning and engagement that resonates with me. The fact the museum sells crochet earrings in their gift shop was just further confirmation that I am definitely an applied art kinda gal.

This is what I love about crocheting. It is hands on and creative at the same time. You take the abstract and make it relatable. You layer color and texture not just for the aesthetic value, but for different uses and purposes. And I think that’s the crux of something in my mindset. What value is there in having all the deep and profound thoughts in the world if they don’t impact your life? Application is critical. Application makes art inviting and engaging. It infuses a purpose and role into something that would otherwise be vague or esoteric. At the same time, it takes something that could be only functional, but elevated it and imparts beauty and creativity.

This lines up with how I want to live my life. I want the places I go to be touched with color. I want to spark creativity in the mundane and joy in all activities. Once I recognized this, I realized that my love for crochet was far from accidental. It was the natural overflow of my applied creativity. Once I realized this, so many other things made sense. The reason I'm drawn to vintage, worn brown leather over brand, spanking new - or why furniture that's a bit distressed makes me feel more comfortable. I like things where you can sense it was lived it, that it touched another life. And this is what I want my crochet to be all about. I want it to beg to be touched and I want my gifts to bring joy to the hands and lives of others. This scarf could practically be a family pet because you can just sit and pet it all day. And I think something magical really does take place when something gets worn out or rough around the edges. It can be pretty rare, but like the Velveteen Rabbit, that's when it becomes most "real" and I hope the Herringbone Haze Infinity Scarf can become "real" for you too.

I am so stinkin’ excited to get to share my latest magazine project with you at long last. My Zebra Bolster is in Simply Crochet Issue 79 and I love it! But guess what, I didn’t love it initially. I had an idea in my head for playing around with some zebra stripes, but I had to work through a few things to make it mag worthy.

I’ve never been a huge animal print kinda gal, but I do love bold patterns and colors. When my daughter got her own room, we embraced all things animal for her room decor. Even though we were on a shoestring budget, we were able to pull together pieces from Target clearance and secondhand items to coordinate with her warm color, stripy IKEA bedspread. For her 2yo birthday, she got a cozy, loungy mini-armchair with funky zebra stripes. This was, honestly, the first time I thought, “Huh - black and white, eye-catching pattern. What’s not to like about zebra stripes?”

When I thought of designing an animal print pattern - channeling my inner zebra seemed like a no-brainer. 🦓 You know what’s not a no-brainer? How to take orderly stitches and create an organic, varied pattern. Then having to re-insert regularity back in so that the maker a) didn’t go crazy from micromanaging stitch counts and b) could be bite sized enough to fit in a magazine.

My initial pitch was for a table runner with the stripes going the short way across. I thought this seemed like a good accent for some animal flair in home decor, but I had my creative blinders on a bit. I have only been in 3 places in my life where that would fit in. 1) the ridiculously posh and over-decorated apartment of the new divorcee for whom I babysat in college 2) the lux, grandiose holiday house in Birmingham we stayed at for my brother’s wedding and 3) a Rainforest Cafe franchise.

The editors sure know what they’re doing. They liked an element of the pattern, but identified it as a better fit for a decorative cushion. As soon as they said this, I felt silly for not seeing it myself. When they were thinking a long bolster pillow, we started workshopping various options. Which way should the stripes go? Border or no border? Zipper or buttons? It was one of those reverse hourglass dialogues where you start with a contained idea, branch out into all kinds of divergent possibilities and then home in on a far superior finished product.

And superior it is. It was a bit of a beast to get it to play how I wanted, but it was so worth it. I love this one! I love the large, long layout. I love how the horizontal stripes reach, stretch and lengthen. I love the long, easy sewed on zipper. And I love, love, love how the black border join is like a classy picture frame for your work.

So check it out! If you can’t access issue 79 of Simply Crochet, you can check out the pattern on Ravelry. Give it some love while you’re there and let me know if you give it a try!

I was on a bit of a YouTube clips binge and I heard a phrase that caught my attention: goal-directed activity. It was describing someone in a manic stage of bi-polar and I couldn’t get it out of my head. I’m grateful that depression is one struggle I haven’t had to deal with, but I could definitely relate to the concept of extreme motivation from goal-directed activity.

Anyone who knows me, knows that I like to do things. I fancy myself a bit like Leslie Knope, if Leslie Knope has rheumatoid arthritis, fibromyalgia and crocheted instead of quilting. I will happily produce the most amazing binder you’ve ever seen to demonstrate the game plan for the next big adventure. (Yesterday I got to coordinate an event for about 400 people at Parliament House - that’s my kind of fun!) Do you know the episode of Parks and Rec where they had the emergency simulation? I’ve done that! Also, I was in model UN for several years. I don’t mean to big note myself, but I do want to paint a picture. When I heard “goal-directed activity” I thought, “Well that could explain so much...”

My husband and I joke about how he finds nothing better than being able to stay home and relax, but I find relaxing boring and it stresses me out. As a kid, my mom stayed home full time to look after the four of us, but she would often say, “Mari, I don’t think you could stay home full time.” She knows me well. I have always known that I’m intrinsically motivated, but I do struggle with the day to day grind. That’s why the concept of goal-directed activity stuck out to me. I’m not intrinsically motivated across the board, I am intrinsically motivated when it is goal-directed.

I need something to stretch for and aim for. I need to focus on something and it unlocks so much drive and energy that I can’t seem to access in any other way. You know how you can accomplish so much cleaning when you have guests coming over, but it is so darn hard to maintain? Or how having a deadline can finally make things get done? I’m only just realizing how deeply this applies to my psyche. Now that I know it, I want to know how I can make the most out of it.

Even as a kid, I grew out of the idea of “playing” much earlier than I wish I had. But, what I did love were projects and missions. I would play Maren & Maren & Maren Inc. (aka 3M) for my corporate side. Or I would decide to throw a stuffed animal tea party with my sisters. Or I would choreograph a talent show to perform on the ledge of the fireplace. This is one way that I see a lot of myself in my daughter. Give her free time and she is miserable, but give her an agenda or a task and she thrives. (This also helps explain her deep love of school, which she also gets from me.) Once I noticed this in her, I started responding to it. When she’s asks what to do, I help her work out how to set an agenda for herself. And there’s nothing she likes more than doing some kind of activity that will be special for others.

This need for goals to drive motivation and unlock my potential energy helps explain why my Gray Day Crochet adventure has been so wonderful. It gives me projects and activities to focus on in a way that taps into my creative and social inclinations. I am so much happier having a project to work on or a problem to solve than to just Netflix and chill. Don’t get the wrong idea - I do love streaming shows, but the chill part isn’t fun unless I have something to do. Crocheting gives me that. It gets my brain into that sweet zone where I am focused enough on something that I can actually unwind. Thanks to all the amazing supporters who’ve been joining with me on this fun adventure. Thanks for reading the blog, buying the patterns, liking the insta posts and looking for me in your crochet magazines. I never thought I would accomplish so much with it this past year, but I’m thrilled with all of the new places it has taken me to. I’ve hit all of my initial goals, so I think it’s time to set some new ones. Any suggestions?

I’ve been pretty quiet for the last few weeks. It’s been one of those spells where life has been equal parts busy and dreary. I’ve been crocheting away, but too drained to post pictures or blog. And a couple of weeks ago, my Nana passed away. This feels sad, but also a relief that she isn’t sick anymore. She was my last living grandparent and it feels like I’ve crossed a threshold. There’s something strange about that layer of my family tree having all shuffled off this mortal coil.

I wasn’t able to travel back for the funeral, but I was able to Skype - so it feels like closure for saying goodbye, but my longing to be close to my family remains. I feel the urge to do something tactile and creative in her memory because I have such vivid tangible memories of her and time at her house. But I feel like I just don’t have the energy yet.

Joe Biden had a great line in his eulogy for John McCain where he promised that one day a memory would flash through our minds and a smile will come to our face before a tear to our eye. I’m not there yet with Nana, but when I am, I think my creative muse will give me the inspiration and energy to make something in her memory.

For now, I wanted to share the memories I wrote that my sister kindly read on my behalf at her funeral. Her life and story was remarkable and this is a slice of some of my memories.

For Nana
My Nana was a school librarian. She had a clear love of books and learning, but don’t be fooled into thinking she was quiet or demure. She had strong opinions and she didn’t shy away from sharing them. As a school librarian, I pictured her like the hero in a movie about taking a ragtag bunch of kids and whipping them into shape - to win the state championship in a spelling bee or debate.
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Sometimes grit and stubbornness are described as two sides of the same coin. I think this is very true for Nana. She could stick with things well beyond when everyone else would give up or think something wasn’t worth it. It seemed like the harder something got, the more Nana would dig in. I think I’ve got a bit of this in me, which means I have to actively try not to be too competitive in board games or I will win at all costs (and burn bridges along the way.) Nana had challenges and obstacles to overcome her whole life she and I think these only refined her inner strength. She was fiercely independent and one of the most strong women I have ever known.

Yet, as strong, stubborn, gritty and independent as she was, there was one consistent soft spot - she had a love of animals that just seemed to melt her. She always had animals in her life. I was only around for some, but the stories of the animals at Nana’s house became legendary - Pandora the poodle (and the frog leg oil incident), Tony the cat, Hammy the hamster. They really were part of the family and it seemed like she could never get enough of them. I remember being fascinated by the bird bath in the backyard and her hummingbird feeder (because I’d never seen one before.) She was always happy to share her love of animals with those around her and they always made her smile. She was like a mama bear - equal parts adoring and protective. And she would go to such great lengths to look after them. Including forcing Bompa to cut a hole in the furnace to rescue wayward Hammy.

She also had a great laugh. While she wouldn’t usually be the one cracking jokes, eliciting a laugh from Nana was like getting a standing ovation. It felt like such a validation. And there were moments of real joy, that I can’t imagine from anyone else. Her “hoo - hoo” meant you dropped your game of Hi Ho Cherry-o and ran to the table. And family gatherings brought out the storyteller in everyone. Everyone had their version of the classics, but Nana considered herself the true authority and made sure to correct any discrepancies between your recollection and hers.

I think it must have been her love of stories that wooed her to be a librarian. Her book recommendations were on point. I still can quote many of the Jack Prelutsky poems from heart (my favorite was “Homework, oh, homework, I hate you, you stink!) She would even get books signed by authors and illustrators and give them to us as gifts. I still cherish these and enjoy sharing them with my kids now and telling them about Nana. Many of my memories of Nana’s librarian days were book related. One of my first memories of Nana’s house was sitting in the den with Evan and listening to the Berenstein Bears on cassette (BOING!) And when I think of the White Bear apartment she lived in, I think of the string of cat mysteries she churned through.

She really seemed to love things with a bit of silliness or a humorous twist. She liked what she liked and there were so many things that must have brought a smile to her face that I found delight in as well. Even 30 years on, I have some visceral memories of things at Nana's house - playing with the jumping peg game, arranging the lights in the ceramic Christmas tree, cracking nuts in the nut bowl, winding the music boxes and playing around on the Casio keyboard. I’m not sure what it was, but there were so many things I only ever seemed to encounter at Nana’s house that they really left an indelible impression.

There were foods I would only have at Nana’s house - like grocery store sheet cake with big frosting roses for our joint birthday cake each year, or green salad (my Mom and Dad’s best shot at getting me to eat pineapple because it was disguised in mini-marshmallows and pistachio pudding.) And of course there was my favorite - KFC chicken littles with instant mashed potatoes! (I think instant mashed potatoes were informally banned in my house, but I knew I could get them at Nana’s and they still are a guilty pleasure of mine.)

Even some of my best childhood adventures were linked with Nana - like setting up the mish mash motel, or three wheeling and playing with model rockets in the field across from her house. She was a good sport for all kinds of shenanigans, but you knew that if Nana was around, she’d keep things reined in before they got too crazy.

It was really hard when she got sick after Bompa died, it felt so surprising and mixed up because Nana always seemed so strong. To see the way Mom and Dad needed to care for her was gut-wrenching. Not because she needed to be cared for, but because it seemed like the Nana I always knew was gone. But as time went on, it seemed like I could start to see some of the story-loving, animal-doting Nana come through, with some of the stubbornness toned down. Even after she started living in the nursing home, it was wonderful that not only could birds still be part of her life, but that when we brought Zoe and Noah to visit her there, they could all enjoy the birds together.

You don’t get to pick what kind of challenges you will have to deal with in life, but I think Nana showed how challenges mean you need to be strong, but you also need to have things that make you smile. In my own life, I hope that I can show this. Especially in sad times, where we have to say a hard goodbye, it is important to be strong, but it is also important to tell stories, celebrate the things you love and smile at the little things along the way.

I love you Nana and I am so grateful for the stories and smiles we’ve shared.