Hobbies and Mental Illness

There is a very fine line between

hobby and mental illness.

-Dave Barry

I realized I'm crossing that fine line between hobby and mental illness when I disembarked from that cruise ship. I took three bags aboard, after all: one for clothes, one for hair, makeup and toiletries, the other for books, magazines, and knitting/quilting projects. Seriously. One-third of my "embarkation" stuff was brightly-colored yarn and fabric.

It gets worse. My friends and I were on our way to the deck late one afternoon, so I had this cool brown sequined cord I'm crocheting into a belt. Anyway, we got sidetracked by a guy from the Czech Republic who was making pina coladas faster than folks could drink them. One by one, we plunked down on bar stools, and as we talked I began fiddling with my yarn. Before I knew it, I'm sitting in the Atrium of a cruise ship drinking a Dirty Monkey and crocheting. The saddest part of this story is I didn't think a thing about it until this handsome guy found the bar stool to my right, sat down, and started up a conversation. "What are you doing there?" he asked after a minute or two of introductory conversation. "Crocheting like a grandma," I deadpanned, without even looking up.

He invited me to the Dance Under the Stars later that night and said I could even bring my "string and hook thing". I knew, right then, that this 'crafty addiction' is slipping into the mental illness stages.

But look what other cute things I've found! I bought this book, Knitted Toys, at my favorite local yarn shop. It has dozens of the most adorable, squishy knitted animals I've ever seen. The patterns are fairly straightforward, too. Like the one for this butterfly...

... and these Goldilocks and the Three Bears finger puppets....

I think, as I prepare for my Big Adventure, I'm going to tuck in enough yarn to complete a menagerie of these animals while I'm gone. I can just see me now, clamoring my way back into Freeman House next spring dragging a trail of yarn elephants and monkeys behind me....

Oh well. Since I don't have children, I'm pawning these plush lovelies off on our church's new nursery. A girl could have worse hobbies (illnesses?), right?

(Quick by the way: I left the story unfinished, didn't I? The guy, my friends insist, was married, but I can't say for sure as he either had his arms crossed, hands in his pocket, or a bare ring finger every time I saw him. Hmm. Perhaps he was a sad, cruising widower looking for a brown-haired, watery-eyed, crocheting friend. :) Good thing I turned him down for the dance. Oh, and knitting is in the air today, apparently. See Alicia's post for today.)