purple passions and yellow yarns

I hate online communities. At least, that's what I've always said. The sad thing is, "always" doesn't mean six months or a year. I have, since getting online in 1994, hated online communities, chat rooms, cyberbuddies, et al, with blind purple passion.

It can be seen from my last post that after 12 years my opinion is begining to change. Don't think that hasn't been causing some sleepless nights of late.

I think the reason can be traced to here:


Not the dam, not the swan...the crochet. Yikes.

What happened is this: The new Debbie Stoller book came in on my hold list at the library. I had some super-cheap cotton yarn in (what I thought was) the colors for our dairy dishes. Put those with a crochet hook from my emergency knit kit...and there you go. Crochet.

Now, crochet and I have a not-so-great history. After a motorcycle accident left me on crutches for (ever) a few months, my mother attempted to teach me the joys of crochet. At 17, I wasn't so keen on it--had I been able to throw it on the floor and stomp on it, I would have. As it was, I was satisfied just throwing it across the room (and pouting--I was 17). Ever the production-knitter, I tried to get my mother to teach me again last August. Result? Same thing. Crochet hates me, and I hate it. Enough said.

God bless Debbie Stoller, though. (If God blesses crocheters, that is)

As I whipped through that dishcloth, I was amazed that a)I could crochet, b)it was so fast, c)I actually finished something, and d)I kinda liked the yellow in it. "Mother's birthday is coming soon," I tell myself, and realize her favorite color is yellow. Now, I have more UFOs than I can count, and I think that my dear friend and carpool pal would smack me if I cast on another project. I could get away with facecloths, though.

Two yellow facecloths later, plus copious references to something called project spectrum, made me think that I could join an online commumity. Even a small one.

What do I do with a blind purple passion now?