Market Street Crochet: handcrafted knitwear brought to you by Appalachia and my two hands!

I grew up in a tiny town settled on Antietam National Battlefield in western Maryland. I spent most of my summers hanging out with my grandmother learning how to make all sorts of things from scratch. I learned how to make noodles and how to can tomatoes. I learned how to make jam and wine and all the things that 9-year-olds aren't usually interested in. I liked the process and the satisfaction of making things with my own hands. What I found most interesting, though, was that my grandmother often gave away the goods that we made. We delivered those jars of jam to neighbors or elderly folks who couldn't get out of the house just to brighten their day. I liked that what I made could be considered a gift. I liked the pride I felt passing my work on to another person.

When my grandmother taught me to crochet, I remember working really hard to get my first row of single stitches just right. Just when I thought I was doing it, I realized I accidentally made a circle which then turned into a little basket. Instead of getting frustrated at not having a nice straight line of stitches, I just went with it. I liked the basket. I liked that I just let the yarn do its thing and it ended up being something sort of cool (to my 10-year-old self) and functional. I mean, who can't use another basket?

Not much has changed. I still like letting the yarn and the stitches do their thing just to see the finished product. I love taking something so small like a ball of yarn and transforming it into something functional that provides warmth and protection. Isn't it so cool?