It's been years since I've crocheted. And I do mean years. Unless you count a flower or two here and there. The last (and maybe the first) actual crochet piece I'd made was back in highschool when my grandmother insisted on an afghan made of avocado and teal acrylic yarn. It matched her carpet, and try as I might to convince her that knitted goods were much prettier, she wanted what she wanted. And I obeyed. Perhaps that is what turned me off the crochet for so many years.
Then when I saw Janet's scarf on Ravelry the other day, it seemed to have an Anthropologie-like quality to it and I thought, "Hmmm, maybe I could do that." I grabbed a crochet hook and a skein of yarn before leaving for my sister's house yesterday, figuring if Gianna took a nap, I might give it a try. What started as a practice piece became an addictive monster. It was one of those patterns where for fear of losing your place, you just go onto the next part over and over. Before I knew it, the scarf was done.
I don't know that I would have the confidence to wear this scarf, but it did give me a new-found appreciation for crochet. Oh, my God! I just had the scariest thought. Is it a new-found appreciation or is just that I've let enough time go by where crochet seems appealing again? Am I, dare I say it?, OLD! Nah!