Handmade = Hard Work

You may have noticed (all 3 of my readers, that is) the little "I took the handmade pledge" button on the right. If I remember correctly, I took the pledge sometime last spring, well after family birthdays and certainly in plenty of time for Christmas gifting.

I had the best of intentions.

Really, I did.

But then a little thing called "life" got in the way, sidetracking me with troublesomely annoying time suckers like bushels of apples, sick pets, family illness, leaky roofs and a multitude of unplanned-for expenses.

My life is really no busier than anyone else's, yet time to "craft," which for me basically means easy crochet patterns, always seems to get pushed to the back burner, while the time to complete them slowly boils away.

So, here we are in the middle of November and I have yet to complete a single handmade item for anyone on my Christmas list. If I were an expert at crocheting, as I remember my grandmother being, I could work on afghans, throws, purses and what-have-you while watching tv, engaging in conversation or solving The New York Times crossword puzzle. all without missing a stitch.

Unfortunately, except for the most basic of patterns, I need complete silence and oodles of time to make anything remotely giftable.

Then there's the worry.

Will she like the color? Is the yarn soft enough? What if it falls apart right after I give it to him?

Sometimes the worrying alone can make the handmade gifting process as pleasurable as, well, a root canal. Fortunately, my youngest daughter serves as an untrained, yet quite effective, psychologist when I'm lost in the worry department.

Somehow, in my family full of anxiety disorders, Melissa has (so far) escaped the family curse. We used to joke, years ago when life was a little more bleak and outcomes of treatment a little less certain, about Melissa's lucky evasion. "Poor Melissa, it isn't her fault she doesn't have a mental illness."

Anyway, when I'm in the craft store, nearly driven to my knees in distress over yarn color combinations or which hook to use, Melissa comes in handy. You've heard of a worry stone? A grooved stone people with anxiety carry in their pockets, rubbing it's smooth surface to help rid themselves of excessive worry?

Let's just call Melissa my "decision-stone."

She'll very patiently calm me down and, with the clarity of the unafflicted, point me toward the path of near decisiveness.

So far this year, I have completed three projects: two afghans (birthday gifts) and a scarf to donate. Melissa, on the other hand, churns out purses, hats, scarves, throws and rugs on a near weekly basis.

If I don't get busy here in the next couple of weeks, I may have to buy my handmade gifts. They'll still be handmade, but from Melissa's hands.

Hmm, that really would save me a lot of time...