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    June 2015
    M T W T F S S
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Because it fits the day

Here is a little poem for this gray, cloudy day:

In my quiet home

windows open, soft rain sounds

invite reflection


The Story of the WUBB

Once upon a time,  a crafty-type person (ahem…me) had a hankerin’ (Yes. Hankerin’. You know, if you are the type person who always pronounces the “g” at the end of your words, you are also the type person who would never use the term “hanker” in any of its forms, so don’t criticise my word choices. Got it? Good.) To continue…had a hankerin’ to crochet a baby blanket. Soft. Pastel. Possibly in mint and lilac colors. Doesn’t it sound lovely?

The problem was, no one I knew was having a baby–not sisters (too old. Sorry, Sis), nieces (too young), cousins, friends. Not anyone I knew. So, every time I went into a store that carried yarn, I would sigh over the array of fluffy, cloud-like baby yarns. (Baby yarns, obviously, are not for crocheting babies, but are extra fine, extra soft yarns, usually in pastel colors, used to make items for babies. You would know this stuff if you got out more.)

Finally, I learned that a friend of my sister was going to have a baby. I was slightly acquainted with this friend, so I told my sister I would crochet a baby blanket for her to give to her friend. I made some color suggestions that would work for a boy or girl, and anticipated a run to the yarn shop.

Well. (When a Southern woman says, “Well” and then stops talking, it means we are “well” and truly flabbergasted.) For her first-born child, for the sweet, soft blanket which would wrap its tiny, newborn fragility, my sister’s friend chose the colors–navy blue and gold.


Why, you might ask, did this young mother pick NB&G? Or, if you were me, you might ask, “What?! Is she nuts?! She’s only a few weeks pregnant–her brain can’t be that far gone yet! Doesn’t she realize those are the worst colors EVER for a baby blanket?”

Seems these colors are the school colors of the young mother’s husband’s alma mater. Seems she had some cockamamie idea that in years to come Dad and child would watch the football team from Dad’s alma mater on TV while the cherished blanket from child’s babyhood provided an appropriate school spirit back drop. (Insert eye roll here. Also, a derisive snort would not go amiss.)

Yes, I bought the NB&G yarn and started crocheting. It was awful. The blanket grew slowly in length, but grew mightily in ugliness. In jest, I started calling it the World’s Ugliest Baby Blanket, thinking that making fun of it would minimize the disgust. When I could, in my thoughts, separate the blanket from the fact that I was crocheting it for a baby, it wasn’t so bad. The colors weren’t ugly per se, but then I would think, “This is for a baby” and the ugliness would wash over me.

Needless to say, the WUBB grew very slowly–so slowly in fact that the poor baby it was being made for was never afflicted with it. Yes, I failed to complete the WUBB before the baby was born, before he started teething, before he learned to walk. Not receiving the WUBB was probably the best gift the child ever received. (Hey, I do what I can.)

I ended up giving the WUBB to one of my nieces. (Yes, a niece I love.) I’ll tell you about it sometime, but I’m warning you–there will probably be pictures.