Monday, August 2, 2010
Over the weekend, the eldest shot her first (detected) eye roll directly at her mother from point blank range. No matter that the eye roll accompanied a modifying bemused grin, no matter that others in the household exhibited a similar reaction. It is a slippery slope. It was precision-executed. A perfect ‘10’ eye roll and even though the first alarm bell clanged when she was two and wouldn’t eat yoghurt “It’s MY life!”, from now on, the merest sign of pre-teen has me shoe quaking.
The eight year old’s eye roll, the 43 year old’s just audible sigh of resignation (with possible rotational ocular involvement) and the hatching of the seven year old’s grand plan for Mum to crochet a cosy for the school’s roundish pizza oven by Monday, were all prompted by my sudden blinkered fixation for crafting rock jumpers.
I lay the blame squarely at the feet of Margaret Oomen, who’s tute, found via Whip Up, first buzzed the bee in the bonnet. In bonneted bee buzzing style, the usual ad hoc-ness and the pressure of a looming televisual Friday Night Crime date with the Mr, I never quite got around to studying the tute...
...which is why the cobbling together of four specimens randomly break every crochet/rock fashion rule (even those I don’t yet know about). I was hooked for one very loooong evening. So hooked, when I finally looked up at the world around me, Friday Night Crime was long dead and buried and we were in to ungodly hours, 70s rock and roll TV. Not that I could SEE. Suzi Quatro’s mulleted hairdo was but a fuzzy outline and anything more than twenty centimetres from my nose, was entirely unfocus-able. What was that the optometrist mentioned about specs?
A gaggle of teens could have exuberantly eye rolled and it would have been but a blurry bad dream.
nb. The river pebbles shown are between five and eight-ish centimetres and I used Perle 8 thread with a 1.5mm hook.