About a month ago, I bought a new chair for the sunroom.
Waiting for the sunroom to be completed has been made infinitely easier by this new chair,
which is making its temporary home in the living room.
I might as well get rid of my couches because I never sit on them anymore.
I love my new chair. It's a glider. I sit in it and glide back and forth while watching tv. Here's the weird part.
There is something about the effortless, back and forth motion of the glider that compels me to crochet
whenever I am sitting in my new chair. I can't stop gliding and I can't stop crocheting.
Until I brought this new chair home, I would crochet a little here and a little there, but nothing bigger or more serious
than an 8" square dish cloth. And how many crocheted dish cloths does one person need?
So I've embarked upon an afghan.
Me: Smooch, must you interrupt while I'm taking pictures?
Smooch: Must you spend all your free time crocheting instead of paying attention to me?
And people wonder why I don't get more animals...
Anyway, this isn't my first afghan. I started crocheting an afghan the summer before I went off to college.
Let's see, that was...wait while I go get the calculator...aaack! 40 years ago.
I got the first 50 rows or so completed before I totally lost interest and Mom stepped in to finish it.
Mom has gone on to crochet hundreds of afghans, so I suppose my new-found crocheting compulsion
may have something to do with DNA in addition to my new chair.
Smooch: *sniff sniff* What's this?
Amazingly, I still have the afghan that I started and my mom finished some 40 years ago.
Mom, do you remember this?
It's the oldest thing in my house besides me.