Some more Wrist Warmers

The whole weekend the weather was downright miserable—foggy, cold, and just generally gloomy. Outside it was the kind of weather that makes you want to curl up with a blanket and a cup of tea. But inside, life went on as usual. The kid didn’t care one bit, as long as there was enough light to play basketball, and the man spent his time tinkering with computer stuff.

We also had a friend staying with us for a couple of nights—someone I hadn’t seen in years. She brought her knitting along, and the two of us spent hours talking, laughing, and knitting, then talking, laughing, and knitting some more. Conversation and stitches flowed back and forth so easily, it felt like no time had passed at all since we last met.

It turns out that nasty weather isn’t too bad after all 🙂

Bunny? Done.

It took me quite a while, longer than I expected, but the bunny is finally finished. Every little stitch, every turn of the hook, and all the adjustments along the way took time, patience, and a fair bit of trial and error. But seeing it all come together in the end—the shape, the little quirks, the personality I tried to give it—makes the effort feel completely worth it. The bunny is done at last, ready to hop into the world and bring a little bit of handmade charm wherever it goes.

… Christmas Decorations

Christmas decorations are popping up everywhere I turn, and the urge to do something a little different, a little unexpected, got the better of me. That’s how I ended up picking up my crochet hook and starting a bunny. Well… almost a bunny. So far, the little guy doesn’t have a head yet—just a body and legs for now.

To get inspired and figure out what to do next, I laid him on a blank sheet of white paper and sketched a head on top. Seeing it like that, even just on paper, made me think, “Hey, this could actually turn into something!” Somehow the mix of crocheted body and imagined head feels playful, a little quirky, and full of potential. I can’t wait to see how this bunny—or whatever he becomes—takes shape.

Memories

It was back in the ’70s, and I must have been around eight or nine years old. My dad’s aunt would come to visit, and it was during one of those visits that she taught me how to knit. The plan was simple enough—to make a red scarf. I don’t think it ever really turned into a proper scarf, at least not in any conventional sense. Instead, the stitches on my needles were unpredictable: some rows had just a few stitches, others had a whole jumble, and every now and then a stitch would slip right off the needle. But Tante Maritha was always there—ready to rescue a fallen stitch, patiently guide my hands, and cheer me on whenever I got frustrated.

I still remember that little red knitting (I don’t dare to call it a knitting project) growing slowly, unevenly, and somehow magically longer with every session. It was messy, bizarre, and imperfect—but somehow that’s exactly what made it memorable. Even now, decades later, I can feel the rhythm of those first stitches, and the warmth of her encouragement that made me fall in love with knitting in the first place.

Little People with Wild Hair-Do

At some point – well after I’d made these two – I decided to change how I construct the arms. Now each doll is worked in one piece: starting with the legs, then the body, then the arms (which are incorporated into the body), and finally the neck and head. That makes them properly “baby-proof.”

Even with this new construction, I try to keep the spirit of the originals alive—the little people with their wild hair-do, sticking up in every direction, untamed and full of character. That wild hair-do gives each doll a mischievous, playful energy, like they’ve just run through a whirlwind or been caught in a gust of wind. It’s what makes them instantly lovable and full of personality, even before you add a face or a story.