Some people call me a hooker

If you made it past this week’s title, I don’t know if I should say thanks or be worried for you.

OK, I promise it’s not as bad as it sounds. I crochet.

If you’re unfamiliar with crocheting, know that it’s not knitting (and I will die on this hill.)

Unlike knitting, crocheting uses one needle with a hook on one end in order to work the yarn into whatever project you’re making. In order to crochet effectively, you have to use the hook. And that is why folks who like to crochet now have the ...misleading... nickname of “hookers”.

I can’t remember when I started crocheting, but my first project was a white scarf. It was just how you’d imagine it. It was a long and skinny rectangle, that’s all. And as most first times go, it was awful.

But after lots of practice and some blood and sweat, I can now make just about anything I want. Blankets, potholders, stuffed animals, rugs, doilies, even an egg-collecting apron for a commissioned project.

I think that anyone who does any sort of craft has that one project that they had so much hope for, but it didn’t turn out and now just inspires new curse words.

Mine is an afghan. The pattern is beautiful, with floral designs made into it and stripes and fringe. ...OK, so that description doesn’t do it justice. It’s much less tacky than it sounds, I swear.

Once you read a pattern or two, you come to understand the real pattern and math behind it all. There is some room for error, but things also have to line up right with more intricate works.

This afghan started off wonderful. A little daunting, sure, but fun and exciting. It sits at about 75 percent complete, like it has for years. All because something didn’t quite add up somewhere along the way.

I have tried numerous times to finish it and fix what went wrong, but it never works, so I make other stuff. Some hooker I am.