One of the fondest memories of crafting I can recall from my childhood would have to be when I got my first loom set. We all know the ones I am talking about; the small square loom that came with a giant bag full of cloth loops that could be woven into potholder after potholder. Of course, on the bag the manufacturer would show all the neat things you could make with the loom. They would show little blankets for dolls and place mats for the dinner table. However, I never progressed passed making potholders. I remember laying out the colors I was going to use for the potholders before I started, always choosing different ones to coordinate with who I was going to give it to. I’m pretty sure that within the first week I had my loom I made my mom about four different colored potholders.
It was never really the potholders that made me want to use my loom. It was just the satisfaction of making something that I knew would be used. Even as a child (I’m sure I was no more than 8 at this point) I enjoyed being able to turn something so foreign and odd into something that could really be used and cherished and remembered for being something that I created. Looking back on it now, I’m sure that it was never the new potholder that pleased my mom or my grandma or my aunt; it was the sheer happiness that it brought me that made them so willing to accept my lopsided potholders with a smile.
No comments:
Post a Comment