THE IDIOT BLANKET

THE IDIOT BLANKET

I see in the blogosphere there are many crafters.   It is nice to know that some old time skills are not completely lost, but in general i-phones, i-pods, Kindles and texting have replaced the female art of killing time by knitting or crocheting.

I remember, years ago, commuting to work by bus or train and 75% of the lady passengers would be passing the time with needle and yarn.  It was fascinating to me that they could carry on a conversation and or sightsee without stopping the click click of the knitting (crocheting) process. 

In those good old days (good except for polio, measles, mumps, chicken pox, rubella, TB, and no internet or cable TV) young girls were taught the art of turning yarn into apparel while young boys were taught to catch a ball. 

My mom was not much at this fine art, but she did know how to crochet.  She could not do anything fancy.  She could not mix colors, create a reindeer sweater, or shape a hat.  She could make 3x3 squares.  She made lots of them while watching TV or carrying on a conversation. After dinner she would make 3x3 squares of every color imaginable.  It probably took her three years of making 3x3 squares before she finally combined the hundreds of squares into one very large blanket.

During this process, when anyone ever asked her what she was crocheting she would tell them she was making an “Idiot Blanket.”  Mom liked to give things colorful names.  She had a couch which was too big so she had it cut down to a size that was neither a couch nor a love seat.  She called it “The Bastard.” 

I find it amusing that that piece of furniture will be passed down generation to generation and will always be known as “The Bastard.”  At some point no one will know why it is called that, but it will always be known as “The Bastard.”  The blanket will be the same.  Generations from now future Crankys will ask why is this blanket called an “Idiot Blanket.”  Somewhere along the way the visual of my mom slowly plodding away making 3x3 squares will fade away but I will bet the blanket will always be called “The Idiot Blanket.”

I inherited “The Idiot Blanket” several years ago.  It stays folded up on my couch in the family room.  I never use the “Idiot Blanket.” Just having it reminds me of my mom’s mindless crocheting.   Just having it reminds me of my mom.

Just seeing “The Idiot Blanket” keeps me warm.