Despite crocheting all year, I have not one crocheted item to give this Christmas. How can one call oneself a craftster when nobody will be admiring my stitchwork on nobody's new scarf? Nobody's toes will be kept toasty in nobody's cute new booties? And nobody will be spilling hot cocoa on nobody's new mittens?
I do take solace in the fact that five children will spend Christmas night curled up with a blanket I made. They will wait for sleigh bells to jingle, and the roof to creak under the weight of eight reindeer (nine if you count Rudolph), all snug in their beds thanks to that soft blankie. Just like my own child will enjoy his sugar plum dreams from under his own. And that makes me feel like a craftster all the same.
There will be homemade gifts this year, but there's nothing yarnish about them. And that is the only hint I'll give in that regard, in case recipients are reading this post.
In other news, there is progress on August. Two strips complete, five to go. It's looking sharp.
Here's a closer view: