In ancient Poor Impulse Control history, I published an annual report in January-February-ish. The reason for this was that when your knitting and crocheting friends and relatives joined the Choir Invisible, you may have mailed me their yarn, unfinished projects and stuff I might not be able to identify. I get a lot of that. Anyhoo, I finish some projects and take others apart. I give their tools away. Of the yarn, I make blankets for animal shelters. Above, please see an image of a blanket in the process of becoming a warm, soft thing.
In 2019, when the pandemic made everyone go their own special kinds of crazy, I was sitting on a pile of scarves and hats I couldn’t mail to anyone, baby blankets hospitals would no longer accept and cat blankets. Time sort of became a blur and my usual methods of keeping track of what I sent where went straight to hell. Looking back on it, I sent dozens and dozens of hats and scarves to organizations that gave them to at risk people. I sent out cat blankets, which I remember packaging up and daring postal workers to challenge me about bales of blankets. What I can say for sure is that if you sent me yarn, I made it into something that helped someone, and thank you for trusting me.
At the beginning of 2023, my oldest friend Trout was in the hospital – had been mostly in the hospital since the previous May – where she turned wool I couldn’t crochet with into 10 blankets for the shelter in our hometown. I’d just taken maybe 25-30 to an animal shelter in the town next to mine. After Trout died, I delivered 42 blankets to the shelter in our hometown. Trout had volunteered there years before, when her health still permitted that kind of activity. The shelter workers were overjoyed to receive our handiwork. Yesterday, Lala and I delivered 24 blankets to that same shelter. That makes the running total for this year between 91-96.
Trout left behind the largest stash of yarn I’ve seen yet. I’ll make a special list of the art supplies I’ve dropped off hither and yon, and if I’m feeling especially saucy, I’ll take a picture of the only reasonably disastrous craft room with just a small percentage of her fabric and yarn piled everywhere. Twice, Pete has opened that door and muttered, “Jesus Christ.” No, Jesus has nothing to do with it.
If you sent me craft supplies, thank you. If you need to talk to me about craft supplies, let’s talk in comments.