Covid Cuties

A menagerie of crochet creations has joined our family. Half way through L’s week of covid my parents stopped by with an amazing treasure chest, that was very kindly given to us by their close friends. The old well-travelled trunk is covered with train and shipping labels from its journeys between New Zealand, India and the U.K. in the 50s and 60s, when overseas travel was by passenger liner, rather than airplanes. L and I glanced at each other in excitement as we sat on the floor in front of this slumbering trunk. It reminded me of the trunk I would pack with my belongings for a term at boarding school. Yes, just like Harry Potter, we had trunks for school and once unpacked they would be stored in the “trunk room” until the end of term, which also had the toaster, fridge and dartboard and my 12 year-old self spent many evenings here gorging on white toast, climbing the stack of trunks and throwing darts, not always at the target. Reverently, we eased the lid back on it hinges and gently lifted out each package. Decaying brown paper parcels or little cloth bags held a wonderful assortment of wool yarns, fur trimmings, embroidery silks, half-completed cross-stitching and embroidered pieces, knitting and crochet needles, cotton threads and a leather lace making pillow with a hopeless tangle of thread and wooden bobbins. All wool, cotton, silk and wood, natural and beautifully made, such a stark difference from today’s synthetic, disposable culture. L settled herself on the couch in her nest of blankets, immensely satisfied with her burgeoned stash of yarn, and happily considered what next to crochet.