Love, Basically

I love buying pocketbooks

because they always fit.

Maybe that's part of the reason I love making blankets, too. You don't have to worry about gauge and needle sizes and yarn weight so much. You just pick something you like and go with it. And blankets are useful year round. I love that! Sweaters, not so much. And the same with socks. Sweaters and socks are great, don't get me wrong. I don't go around just making blankets; that's not what I'm saying. I mean, maybe if I lived in Canada, I would be all about the wool sweaters. But I live in Georgia. I own one sweater that's about 20% wool. I actually think I might be allergic to wool (forgive me, I know that's a horrible thought). But I love cotton. And cotton is great for blankets. Layer them up in the winter so thick that you can't move underneath, or just put one light one on top of the sheets in the summer. Perfect for spring picnics and fall football games. A blanket is always useful.

But it doesn't have to be made out of yarn that should have gold listed on the fiber content cause it costs so much. That acrylic yarn that everybody loves to hate can make a pretty darn good blanket, and it doesn't matter where you drag it (and a little boy, one of the most dedicated and adorable blanket lovers, will drag it everywhere!).


Can you picture anything more precious than a little baby wrapped in a beautiful handmade blanket? At the church I go to when I'm at school, they have a baby dedication almost every week. I love babies; I want a baby so bad I ache inside sometimes. But for now I just make baby blankets to give away, hoping and praying that someday I'll be making one for my own little baby.

I have this picture in my head of my own little house someday. I like to dream about it, rearrange the furniture in the rooms in my mind. And I have this vision of a little linen closet with a shelf of blankets folded and stacked nice and neatly. It's like a scrapbook of my crafting life, you can trace my progression. There are blankets I have made and some that I haven't even thought of yet. They're all just sitting there, waiting for a guest to come so I can pull out the couch-bed and spread one across it. If I'm going to have this closet shelf of blankets in a few years, I figure I'd better get started now.

A handmade blanket is like a big hug. It's love, basically. And whether it's a precious heirloom in perfect condition or a worn-out, fraying scrap of cloth, the underlying sentiment is there. Someone loves me. Or, I love myself, which is something I have to remind myself every now and then.

I suppose that's enough blanket love for now. I hafta go work on filling up that linen closet!