It all started when I crocheted a baby blanket from a soft, fleecy, tactile and thick yarn. Quick to come together and not difficult. Perfect for me. My nephew and his partner are expecting a baby girl in July, so this was for them. Well technically it’s for the baby, but you know what I mean.
My sister was very taken with the soft, tactile yarn and whined that she wanted a lap blanket too. I directed her to the correct section of the Wool Warehouse website and told her that if she ordered the yarn, I’d crochet her a blanket. After all, it’s a nice thing to offer to do - and it stopped her whining.
Of course, it did not occur to me to exercise any erm, control over her choice, after all, I knew she was in the right section for the big balls of quick to crochet thick fleecy stuff. Trust her then, to stray. Less than a few days later, a big bag of balls of lovely bright multicoloured yarn arrived and, weird, it was loopy. Having tried and failed to teach her to crochet, I knew I wasn’t going to get much interest when I told her how strange it was and what a b**** it would be to crochet, I mean, how big was I going to have to make the stitches, and how on earth would I be able to distinguish them from the weird loops afterwards? I did a chain of about 25 very loose stitches and 2 rows of very loose crocheting later, had used a whole ball and had something that was a soft and tactile pile of mess, frankly.
I had a word with the Sissy. She said something that amounted to ‘oh I don’t care how it looks, I just want a lovely soft blanket to sit under whilst I watch TV’. Which she thought let me off the (crochet) hook, but in fact, made it worse because I knew I couldn’t do it. And going on the sample piece, it would require about 300 balls. And they’re a tenner each.
Now, in these circumstances, my procrastination gene would usually kick in and I would subconsciously set the whole thing aside to erm, well let’s say - think about. But the other of my big problems is an unfairly large share of the guilt gene. I worried that Sissy had spent a ridiculous amount of money on this yarn and that I wasn’t as capable as she thought. Or indeed that I’d led her to believe. I was noodling over this with a ball of the yarn in my lap when I noticed the two icons on the label that indicate no crochet and no knit. Duh, how had I missed that? And what to do? Took the band off and was led to a You Tube vid that showed me how to loop the yarn together.
Genius. No tools required, but a flat surface helps. Basically, lay a row of yarn above a row of yarn and pull the loops of the top row through the loops of the below row in an ‘under through and up’ technique.
It is easy. A bit tricky as the blanket grows in size because you have to be able to reach the top row and it really helps to keep it flat...turns out tension is an issue. But not as big an issue as not having the yarn flat too, and missing a loop. Makes a big hole, I can tell you. So I’m in the habit of checking every 20cms or so. Much easier to undo a short length than a million rows, believe me. It’s fascinating stuff. I haven’t quite worked out how I’m going to cast off, but I’m miles off needing to know, so will save the you Tube search for nearer the time. It’s such a rabbit hole, isn’t it, You Tube.
You need to maintain a persistent tension or you can see the rows changing, especially from the back; the er.....knots(?) are a tell tale and you can see it in the hang of the blanket too. This particular yarn is superbly random, but there are some lovely loopy single colour alternatives if you’re interested. But, um, don’t ask me to do another. 10 balls of this and it may be more than the yarn that’s a bit loopy. See what I did there? Yep, maybe expected, and I hate to disappoint.
I’d also like to point out that this isn’t a paid advertorial, it’s my real life happenings and I mention where the yarn came from to save you having to ask.