Neckwarmers are a very welcome trend for a crocheter like me. A crocheter who has lofty ambitions with little time. Or a crocheter who has all the time in the world, but gets bored halfway through a scarf. Also, baby blankets. Have you ever tried to make a baby blanket? Sure, it is easy enough, but after three hours of making row upon row of the same stitch, I’m placing a curse on whoever uses the finished blanket. (Don’t worry, though, I clearly display a disclaimer with all of my cursed blankets, for liability issues.)
But where does the neckwarmer enter? As my personal crocheted savior, of course. I have about, hmm, three thousand half-finished (or half-started, does that make me a pessimist?) scarves and blankets. I was getting sick of the sad, little pieces laying around, reminding me of my astounding ability to not follow through on projects. So I have started turning them into decidedly un-cursed neckwarmers. As it turns out, this is a pretty easy transition.
Once upon a time, in a living room far, far away, I started a baby blanket. A striped blanket made up of dark blue and white. I don’t remember for what baby I originally intended to give the blanket. Surely that baby is a teenager by now. A blanket-less, cold teenager.
Over the years, I would learn of another pregnant friend, coworker, or sister. I would think, “Oh, I know! I will finish this blanket and give it to ________!” Three rows in and that would turn into, “Oh, to hell with that! I’ll just go to Target for a gift.” Because of this can’t-do attitude, I would like to apologize to any baby born between the years of 2006 until today.
Then the day came in which I thought, “Wait a tick, I can make this into a cowl!” An hour later, that bastard of a blanket was a funky and bold keeper of the neck warmth.
However, not all of the neckwarmers came from such sad beginnings. This purple strip of awesomeness was actually made (and more importantly, finished!) with the right intentions.
While taking this next photo, Kortney said, “Okay, close your mouth.” I replied indignantly, “You can’t ask a mouth-breather to close her mouth! Are you trying to kill me?” Then for dramatic flair, I sucked in a deep (mouthful of) breath, closed my mouth, and made muffled “help me” squeaks. Every day with me is like an adventure, I tell you.
Good news, folks! This panic-inducing accessory can be yours! Check out the Etsy listing for other awkward, closed-mouth photos.
- bitteroclock posted this