Thursday, October 19, 2017

Muscle Memory

Inspirational song: Crimson and Clover (Tommy James and the Shondells)

Halloween is rushing up on me again. Once upon a time, I was very serious about my costume-making. Then I seriously burned out on design and construction of any wearable art at all, and my kids really had to push to get me to do a whole lot for them for Halloween. I got very happy when they became old enough and talented enough to do most or all of their own costumes.

I haven't gone anywhere for Halloween parties for years, but once in a while I'll still dress up, at least a little bit. Recently I even put in a little effort to make a football jersey similar to the East-West bowl skit from Key & Peele (I was "Fudge"), although it was barely finished by the time trick-or-treaters started showing up.

This year I actually have a Halloween party to attend, a reason to put effort into a costume. I don't have the energy to do it all from scratch, as I once did, nor do I think I will be coming through all the thrift stores in town as I have done in my youth. I ordered a white lab coat online, instead of trying to sew one from a pattern that I make up on my own. That doesn't mean there will be nothing homemade. There will be something quite labor intensive for which I have to find time and patience over the next six days.

I used to be (all modesty aside) quite gifted in the needle arts. I embroidered, crocheted, and sewed well and often. I failed at knitting at least twice in my life, but I refuse to dwell on that. I used to say if I lost my hands, I'd lose everything. My hands now ache all the time, and while they were never particularly tough, they were never this weak. Despite their declining strength and resilience, I have picked up a crochet hook, and I'm giving it the old college try. The specific costume I'm copying is supposed to be a knitted piece, but that would take too long and I would give up on it. I slowly chained out 30 loops while I rode in the car, and by the time we made it to an errand in Fort Collins, my muscle memory was returning, and the awkward single stitches started coming a little faster. My chosen colors might be a teensy bit off, and my method is hooked instead of needled, but already I'm really pleased with where this is going.


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