Read Online Hooked for Life by Mary Beth Temple - Free Book Online Page A

working in the costume shop of a film shooting in New York City. There were two complicated garments yet to be finished, more to pack and ready for the shoot whose scheduled start time was mere hours away, and several of us were buzzing around like over-caffeinated bees trying to get everything finished while at the same time not making stupid, sleep-deprived mistakes. One of the assistant designers came over and asked if he could help. I raised an eyebrow—as a general rule on professional film sets, stitchers do not design and designers do not stitch. I wasn’t quite sure how much help he could actually be—I had never seen him so much as thread a needle, and while I am sure he knew how to sew, he probably wasn’t as practiced at whomping out garments as the rest of us who did it full-time. He blurted into the silence, “I didn’t mean finish the dress, but I’ll do chimp work if it helps.” I fell apart laughing. “Chimp work” is such an expressive phrase that even if you have never heard it before you know exactly what it means: mindless, brainless repetitive work that someone with minimal skills can accomplish. I set him to putting a jillion decorative iron-on fabric pieces onto a garment that needed them and went back to stitching. Every few minutes I smiled to myself, watching him with the iron. Chimp work, indeed.
    Chimp work is the opposite of mindful crocheting—it’s what you do when your hands need to be busy but at least part of your brain is required elsewhere. Sock legs, scarves, and extra-large granny squares are great chimp work. Once you get going, you can have a conversation, look at the scenery, ponder higher mathematics, or the meaning of life—whatever else it is that needs to be done.
    Now I have a sort of mental file of the available projects on hand, which ranges from chimp work through “I might have to look at this every few moments to make sure it is doing what I want it to do” on up to “If anyone so much as looks at me while I am in the middle of a row, I am going to lose my place and mess this up to a spectacular degree.” What those projects turn out to be sometimes matters less than you might think.

Crocheting and Babies—You Can’t Have One without the Other
    (Which doesn’t mean I think that everyone in the world who crochets should run out and have a baby-plenty of babies out there would benefit from some crocheted cuteness, so don’t feel the need to provide your own baby unless you were already inclined in that direction.)
    W hen I talk to people who crochet, I always ask what got them started, and invariably the women and men who didn’t learn as children became interested and sought out lessons when they or someone they knew was expecting a baby. There is something about a new baby that makes even noncrocheters (or as I prefer to call them, latent crocheters) rummage through pattern books and coo over blankies and bears.
    Crocheted items are the perfect combination of utility and art, so far as babies are concerned. At the rate that infants leak out of one end or the other(or both), a parent or caretaker can never have too many blankets, bibs, or sweaters. Even if your crocheted offering is not an exact match to the adult recipient’s taste or fashion sense, you will still wow them with the fact that you took the time to make something to welcome Junior into the world with your own two hands. And as for art—the pattern choices are almost endless, so you can choose something that shows off your particular skill set.
    Another great thing about crocheted baby items is the speed with which they are finished—you can find out about a baby shower a few days before it happens and still show up with a lovely handmade gift that will wow the crowd and look like you were working on it for the duration of the pregnancy. That speedy finish time is also a great fix for those of you (okay, us) who like to bask in the warm glow of instant gratification from time to time. In