Mom and I were in Virginia, house sitting and kid sitting
for my friend who was travelling in Australia.
It was February and Virginia was cold.
Snow and bits of ice still gripped the frozen ground and I was
unprepared for the weather. My
grandmother always nagged me and my sister to wear our hats in the winter when
we lived in Pennsylvania. We ignored
her. Hat hair was unattractive and would
interfere with our big 80’s hair. Her
words of wisdom came back to me as we wandered through Wal-Mart and I passed a
display of $3.98 knitted hats.
Mom swatted my hand as I reached for a pink one. “I can crochet one for you in an hour,” she
declared. “Don’t buy that junk!”
Back to the house, mom pulled out her crochet hook, pink
yarn and located the one-hour hat pattern on her I Pad. She rocked slowly in the wooden rocking
chair, creaking the floorboards beneath her. With the snow slowly falling outside the
window, it was a cozy scene.
An hour passed by quickly, and Mom’s language became just as
colorful as the yarn she had on her hook.
She would start the pattern, and then take it apart. She watched the video over and over on her I
Pad. Four hours into the project, she
became so desperate she made me watch the video in spite of my complete inability
to crochet.
The long weekend was finally over and after we put the kids
on the bus to school, Mom and I headed South for home with me driving the
entire way. Mom was still working on my
one-hour hat.
I finally received my hat in May.
