I don't often crochet things for myself. (Correction: the cowl I made for our crochet along was, I believe, the second thing I have ever crocheted for myself.) I have only made two, count 'em, two things for Forrest. I am always crocheting--seriously, all the time--but hardly have a single item in my house that I made to keep. That seems kind of sad, doesn't it? That hundreds of kids all over the world are wearing my hats, but most of the people I love (um, myself included) don't own anything I've made for them?
And earlier this month, while I was up to my ears in orders for my shop, I realized something: my feet were chilly. Quite chilly. Sure, I could have gone and put on a pair of socks, but the heart wants what the heart wants, and this girl's heart wanted handmade crochet slippers. Is that so wrong?
So I set aside the orders I was working on and decided that, wonder of wonders, I was going to crochet something for me. And not decide at the last minute to sell it instead, which happens to most of the crochet projects that I start for myself. Ravelry produced an adorable Mary Jane slippers pattern and I got busy while listening to General Conference.
Before too long, I had a cute pair of slippers. But my feet were still chilly. Why, you ask?
Because those are my dang husband's gigantic hobbit feet in my slippers! I know that I crochet loosely and usually need to drop at least one hook size or alter patterns to make them smaller. So I did. I went down one hook size from what the pattern recommended, and crocheted them according to the pattern. I thought that would be enough. Clearly, it was not.
(I'd like to take a moment to point out that I did not direct him in these feet poses. He's a natural.)
I was actually headed towards the garbage can to toss them out when he called, "Wait! Where are you going with those?!" I told him they were getting chucked, obviously, because they were huge and ridiculous.
"Are you joking? I want them." Really? You want them? "Of course!" And he's been wearing them ever since.
Thank goodness conference is two days long--I had enough time to make a matching pair for myself . . . a little smaller this time around.
After that first pair of slippers, I was prepared to declare this a crochet failure and give up, never to make anything for myself again. But matching husband-wife Mary Jane and Murry Joe slippers?
I do believe that's a crochet win.