I was Once a Hooker ...

... and I think I was Happy enough whilst doing it.

I wanted to reminisce about hooking this Christmas stocking earlier, but it was stored at Thesha's, and I was unable to retrieve it to take a picture. So, when it came out of hiding on Christmas Eve, a miracle occurred (as befits the season), and I managed to remember to snap a photo. As best as we can reconstruct the past, I would have hooked this item in the mid-eighties, so it is the best part of twenty-five years old. It is hooking too, as in rug hooking and not as in knitting.



Thesha, our oldest, received a kit in late childhood or very early adolescence, and made a very nice stocking for herself. She followed this us with one for her younger sister, Althegal, although, if memory serves, it was Mom who finished it. Next year, we think that Mom bought a second kit and hooked a stocking for me. Come one more December, memory tells me that I didn't want Cuppa to be left out, so I took up the cause and laboured on a stocking for her. I can remember sitting in our brown reclining chair in the family room by the side door and hooking happily.

My stocking and Cuppa's follow the exact same pattern, but we both free-styled at the top where the pattern simply called for plain white. Although I certainly didn't mind the exercise, I must confess that everyone in the family has since renounced hooking. I mean, it was fun while it lasted, but hooking is not something that you want to make your life's work. At least we didn't.