Grandma Rosie’s Crochet Legacy
Grandma Rosie was one of the OG creative forces in my life. I spent every summer as a kid with my grandparents in Phoenix, where the insane heat meant I was usually either reading a book or hanging out with Grandma.
Examples of her crochet work are scattered throughout The Oodlearium, my creative space—a dress form displaying an intricately crocheted dress she made for my aunt, a Barbie dress she made for me as a kid, and one of her delicate doilies.
I’ll always remember Grandma either stirring a pot in the kitchen or perched on a child-sized stool near a window, working on her latest crochet project. I’d sit in amazement as a basket of yarn slowly transformed into a baby blanket, a hat, or a sweater.
There are easily 1,000 baby blankets around the world crafted by her loving hands. Over the years, she taught me the basic stitches—chaining, slip stitch, single crochet, double crochet, and half-double crochet. My first project was a scarf. I’ll never forget showing it to her, so proud of my accomplishment, only to discover it was completely catywampus because I didn’t know how to count my stitches yet. The next summer I tried my hand at a baby blanket, but I could only manage it if she helped me get started and establish the pattern—and of course, made sure I had the same number of stitches in each row! Eventually I learned a bit of patience and how to count my stitches.
I never learned to read a pattern, though. I stuck to my arsenal of basic stitches, working them back and forth in rows. I usually picked uniquely colored yarn so the variation produced the pattern rather than the stitches themselves. I never really had reason to learn anything more. While Grandma was still alive, I would ask her to make blankets for any of my friends expecting a baby. After she died, I tried to continue on her legacy. I never would come close to the quantity she made. Fast forward 25 years: I decided I wasn’t going to make any more blankets because I didn’t feel people appreciated handmade gifts like they used to. So more or less, I stopped crocheting.
Fast forward again: Tom wanted an elf hat for Christmas. I bought 3-4 hats from different party stores, but they were either scratchy, too big, or too small. He flippantly asked if I could just crochet us hats. I laughed and reminded him that I didn’t know how to read a pattern. He insisted I could figure it out and considered the conversation done.
I found a pattern online and the softest yarn I could find, then set out to learn to read a pattern. By the time I was done, we had matching hats that bring huge smiles every holiday season. Just like Grandma, I went on to make loads of hats that I gave away for free.
A few students made me amigurumi creatures before I left teaching. They’ve been sitting on a shelf in The Oodlearium ever since. These little bundles of joy inspired me to make two Christmas gnomes—my foray into the world of making 3D creatures.
On a recent trip to our library, I discovered a book called Crochet Monsters. I was overwhelmed by how ridiculously adorable they were. As I flipped through the pages, I was simultaneously inspired by the idea of creating a crochet version of one of my doodles.
I knew I had to try Duke. He’s made up of very basic shapes—a few circles. I made a trip to a new-to-me yarn shop near my house and spent too much money on a beautiful skein of yarn. Before I knew it, I had created the ball of his body and set off to scale down the pattern for the eyes. When everything was finished, he was slightly different than the original 2D drawing, but I stood in awe of having crafted a 3D version of one of my doodles.
Tom went on to pick one of the monsters from the book. I returned to Wool & Co to pick up more yarn, confident I could read through the various component patterns, piece it together, and make the monster. I dove into creating the body and was excited by the progress. I was moving along when I hit a set of directions that were completely foreign to me. No amount of YouTube searching helped, so I had to walk away. Hopefully I’d see things differently in a few weeks with fresh eyes.
I still have work to do on the little guy, but he’s coming along. And honestly? I think Grandma Rosie would be pretty proud of how far I’ve come—from that catywampus scarf to creating 3D creatures from my own imagination. She taught me more than stitches; she taught me that creativity is worth pursuing, even when you have to walk away and come back with fresh eyes. Even when the pattern seems impossible. Even when it takes 25 years to pick up the hook again.
The blankets she made still hug me. And now, every time I create something with my hands, I feel her sitting on that little stool by the window, cheering me on.
