Growing up, my Grandma was ALWAYS knitting or crocheting when we visited. I can picture her in her chair with her knitting bag by her side full of needles, yarn, patterns and Woman’s Own magazine. My Grandpa would be getting irritated with the sound of the needles clicking together as he sat and read the newspaper. All our (incredibly itchy) school jumpers and cardigans were lovingly made by Grandma, parcelled up in brown paper and sent to us.
My mum also made clothes for my sister and I, including the kind of long party dresses that were so fashionable in the seventies, matching summer dresses and dressing gowns - how lucky we were!
A few years later I had my first son and I knew I wanted to dedicate myself to being a Mum. But in the following years I experienced multiple miscarriages, it was a very tough time. So, when I became pregnant with my second son it was so precious, I wanted to treasure every moment.
That year my Auntie asked me what I would like for Christmas and the answer was simple, I wanted her to teach me to crochet. Sadly my Grandma had died when I was 15, before I had learned to crochet, but I had been given some of her knitting needles and crochet hooks and I wanted to use them.
I was so pleased to be learning this craft that my Grandma had passed down to her. I was in the Nesting phase of my pregnancy and had plans to fill our home with soft homemade cosiness.