Warm Memories

(Jeez-o-pete, that's a sappy title...)

My math afghan just got home from its first math conference (at least its first since it was completed... I seem to remember a hauling box of brightly colored acrylic down to Boca Raton for the Southeastern conference a few years ago), and I was putting away the blanket that had taken its place in the interim, and I realized that its story needed to be told.



Once upon a time, I went to college. And I learned to crochet, primarily from old books and the free patterns available in the yarn section at the Terre Haute Wal-Mart. Sugar and Cream and Red Heart were what I stashed.

And so when I decided I wanted to make an afghan, I went with a free Lion Brand pattern. This one, actually. I was a poor college student, though, so I didn't use that spendy Homespun stuff, it was Red Heart Super Saver for me. Gauge wasn't even a thing. I used the same hook as the pattern called for, and so pretty early on I figured I would need more motifs to get a nice big blanket. I got as close as I could with the materials available to my sorority colors, and went to work.

These yellow and blue motifs were in my backpack everywhere I went. To class, to choir and drama club rehearsals, to Model UN and sorority meetings. To at least one math conference, maybe two. On the drama club trip to London. They went everywhere. And then I was done with school, and they went home with me to Birmingham. I crocheted these endless hexagons in the evenings after my nice inter-school job. And then there were enough of them.

And I started putting them together. Just FYI, seaming is easier if seams are straight. Even if you're crocheting things together. I put the navy zigzag stripes together and the yellow zigzag stripes together. And then I put the stripes together. It seemed endless.

And again, it ended. I was so proud. I had made an afghan with my own two hands.

Now I look at it, and it's very Michigan-y. It's actually more like my boyfriend's fraternity (Alpha Chi Sigma, a chemistry organization) would want, than anything I had wanted it to be. And I would probably die before I made anything like it today. But it's warm, and washable, and it's mine.

And last night, when I wanted something warm to cover my chilly feet after I got home from knit night in the terrible cold, I was glad I spent that time and energy eight years ago on this ridiculous old thing.