Unique

“Cherish forever what makes you unique, ‘cuz you’re really a yawn if it goes.”
Bette Midler

Anyone who knows me knows that I’m a Bette Midler fan. She is a multi-faceted human being - and she embraces who she is (singer, actress, activist). Her quote above gave me a chuckle because she’s about as unique as they come. 

What about the rest of us? Are we unique because of the way we dress? The color of our hair? Perhaps we’re very tall and literally stand out in a crowd. Those are visual clues to our individuality, but do they make us unique? 

A piano virtuoso. An astronaut. The karate champion. A poet. (Amanda Gorman comes to mind – if you don’t know who she is, Google it. And then read about her amazing twin sister Gabrielle!) 

Does what we do make us unique - for the folks I’ve listed above - probably yes. We look at them and think - “How cool!” “They have a gift.” “I’m in awe.”

We are all guilty of making assumptions. Based on a physical attribute (the tall person plays basketball), a career or vocation (mechanics are good with their hands), or a situation (everyone on this Zoom is bored to tears.)

But let’s think a minute about the times when we’ve been surprised when we find out that the minister who preaches on Sundays is a member of a rock band on Saturday nights. Or the quiet accountant who also sings karaoke with gusto or entertains a crowd at open-mic night. What about the school principal who retires and decides to go on photographic safaris – and he’s really good! And the engineer who rides a unicycle? Each of these (and I’m sure you can think of more) are unique because they are a surprise. Very often our response is – “I didn’t know they were into that!” “What a hoot!”

So many of us are experiencing the pandemic pause. Suddenly we have time, because we are at home more, to do projects or explore. There was the puzzle phase. Companies couldn’t keep them in stock as families worked together to pass the time. (I’ll admit to being part of this crowd – I think we did a dozen 1,000 piece puzzles in as many weeks!)

 Many became chefs! Or at least tried to. Lots of sourdough bread makers and air fry enthusiasts. (No, I passed on these two.) People were cleaning out closets, organizing workroom and fitness spaces.(Yes on these two.) Some of it was to gain a sense of control – some to pass the time.

For me, it was, and still is, crocheting.

I know, I know. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve heard – “I didn’t know you were a craft person.” Well, I am. Freshman year in college (Bucknell) my roommate showed me how to crochet. (She is right-handed, I’m lefty – so I learned to crochet right-handed.) I grabbed leftover wool from my Mom’s knitting projects and made the ubiquitous Granny Square afghan. You know the one – many  8” squares of mismatched colors with a black border holding it all together. Well, that one has long since fallen apart, but I was hooked (crochet pun intended.) 

Since the start of the pandemic I’ve made eight afghans – some small (grandkid size), some simple (all double-crochet stitches), some more elaborate (Fisherman style patterns.). I’ve found new patterns to try, and I’ve kept my local yarn shop on speed dial. (They are so terrific – they wind the skeins for me, which is such a help when there are two dozen of them!)

For someone everyone knows as a “go-go-go” person, crocheting may seem like an unlikely choice. But not really. There is a challenge in deciphering a new pattern and learning new stitches. (FPDC and BPDC - front or back post double crochet, Bobble stitches.) I’m constantly checking to make sure I have the right number of stitches in each row and I try to keep a consistent tension on the wool as I thread it over the crochet hook into the next stitch. 

There is a sense of accomplishment as the afghan takes shape- growing in size horizontally or vertically with each additional row. (I don’t do anything but afghans – no dumb doilies for me!) Thus far, I’ve only used one color for each afghan, letting the patterns be the focus. But I did just find a baby afghan pattern that calls for a rotation of pastel colors for each double crochet shell row. A pink row, a yellow row, a blue row and a green row. Maybe I’ll give that one a try. 

Crocheting forces me to sit down and pay attention to the task at hand. I’ve found I like sitting in my chair near the deck windows where the light is brightest (old eyes…) with music in the background or maybe watching a Netflix series. My mind relaxes for a moment. I’m sure my blood pressure settles. I can pause when I like. I can pick it up again. It’s soothing in a way. I may never be able to truly meditate (my mind won’t shut completely off) – this is a close as I get.

Just don’t try talking to me when I’m counting stitches – I’m only going to count louder.