In the World of Crochet
I learned to crochet in 2001, relatively late in life, after 40 years of sewing. My husband, then a New York City sanitation worker, brought home a box of hooks that he rescued from life in a landfill. He gave me the box and said, “Can you do something with these?”
“Something” turned into an obsession and a career. Once I learned the basics, I had to crochet at every opportune moment. Like all crochet fanatics, I’ve spent countless hours with a hook in my hand, engrossed with my yarn and project. I crochet while watching TV with one eye, on road trips and flights, in waiting rooms, even in movie theaters before the film starts. I’m no different than other crochet-crazed stitchers!
My husband is a golfer. I tease him as he drives away with his clubs that I’m a golf widow. He once retorted, as I went off to a crochet guild meeting, that he’s a crochet widower! Well! He only has himself to blame!
But what, pray tell, is a crochet widower?
It’s my husband who sits immobile as I frog a project (that is, wildly rip out stitches) and cover him with yards and yards of yarn.
It’s the guy who sleeps alone at 3:00 a.m. because his designer spouse is typing a pattern before it goes out of her head.
The person who can say, “My wife still lives here? I thought she ran off with a flock of sheep, you know … yarn on feet, ages ago!” is a crochet widower.
It’s your significant other who has one-sided conversations because you’re too busy counting stitches to answer such a complex question as “What’s for dinner?”
It’s the life partner who opens a closet door and gets hit with an avalanche of yarn.
It’s the love of your life standing at the door who tells the tearful children to wave while you gleefully drive away to another fabulous CGOA show.
My husband, Tony, affectionately known as HWC (Husband Who Cooks) in my Confessions of the Yarn
Princess articles (see CrochetInsider.com) is the selfproclaimed president and founder of the CWC—The Crochet Widower’s Club. He came up with this one night in a fit of tongue-in-cheek pique, probably while clawing his way out of a pile of yarn! There are no association dues, no meetings, no secret handshakes or rituals.
So, dear reader, how do you know if your loved one considers him- or herself a crochet widow(er)? I put out “feelers” on Facebook and by email to crocheters of any skill level. My questionnaire was then sent to 14 crocheters whose spouse/partner was willing to answer. Although the survey was offered to any gender, it’s coincidental that all the respondents were husbands of female crocheters.
The first section was demographics: name, length of the relationship with the crocheter, level of her skill (a crochet pro or avid enthusiast), how long she’s been crocheting, and how often. 12 of the 14 women earn from their work, mostly as designers. Gwen Buttke McGannon’s husband, Kevin, said his wife “…is a designer who … sleeps with a hook in her hand … and crochets while she’s driving.” There is incredible longevity in this group; two couples, designer and technical editor Agnes and Art Russell and designer Michele and Dick Wilcox, are each married 54 years, two designers who are grandmothers have been crocheting since they were 5 and 6 years old, and two more have been crocheting for more than 40 years! That’s a lot of yarn! Marc-Olivier, husband of designer Julie Desjardins, said she’s been crocheting since the lightbulb was invented!
How often do the crocheters work their hooks?
The range of time is wide, from one hour a day to “always,” said Jason, husband of Crochet World editor, Britt Schmiesing. Jack, husband of designer Rebekah Tussing, said he’s surprised he hasn’t woken up to see her crocheting in her sleep. Could these guys be exaggerating just a bit?
When asked “What does she do that makes you feel as if you aren’t there?”, the most common reply was “counting.” No surprise there—or here: 9 of the 14