Yarn is a very good thing for PTSD symptoms 🙂
Here’s my latest scrapghan project.
No, that’s the old one! I started that long ago, at the other place, and had worked on it in little bits for so many years that it had acquired a feeling of should. “I’ve worked on it for so long, and it’s so large by now, that I should finish it.”
What an unpleasant feeling of conforming to some imagined expectation! Does anyone care what I do with my own yarn? Nope. Nobody does. It’s just my imagination, like many of the non-existent external pressures that I allowed to dictate my behavior over the years.
Whoops, as always, it’s so easy to dive in too deeply.
Back to yarn.
I pulled it apart, and now there’s a pile of great scraps, again.
I started making basic granny squares, those charming little motifs of extreme simplicity and ultimate soothe. Zero thought required. It serves the same purpose as adult coloring, which has become so fashionable these days, except the crochet takes shape and becomes something useful.
The only thought needed for this is more of a feeling, using vision and taste to arrange these little randomy bits into harmonious mini-compositions.
I was looking for some way to carry the yarn scraps around with me that wasn’t just piling them all into the bottom of a bag. Discovered this zipper shopping bag with some structure to it, and used the bottoms of three small boxes to stack inside it.
It is convenience itself! Then zips up and looks tidy, so I’m not obviously a poor old wreck carrying her yarn around to keep her wits together.
And this was DONE in no time–