#WIPWednesday

Published on March 25, 2026

Crochet

A horizontal colour photograph of a crochet shawl in progress. It drapes across my bent legs in blue jeans. The top is in a white yarn whilst the bottom is in a creamish pink yarn.

Progress continues on steadily. I am nearing the end of the last repeat in the second colour. Between stitches I think of my niece. This shawl will be hers. I think of nothing. I think of future projects with the remnants of the yarn. It is so soft I don't think I can get tired of working with it.

It is also a good project for my wrist when the old ache flares up - see update on the Project Pouch. The stitches are fairly loose, the yarn so light, and the pattern easily remembered that I find my wrist and arm are relaxed, easy, and unburdened by twinging pain.

Project pouch

A horizontal colour photograph of two crochet brown rectangles on a desk. They rest on a notepad with a small woven pouch above them. On the right hand side the corner of a silver coloured laptop is visible.

I have two panels out of three completed.

By now, I assumed I would have completed the pouch but working on the first panel kindled an old injury on my wrist. The tight gauge means it is harder to get the crochet hook through the stitches. I have now figured out how to do it without brute force but it took a little while, enough time for my wrist to protest.

I immediately pressed paused on this project when that happened and took it easy with everything else too. Rest seems to be the only thing that helps, so I did less.

By Monday, I was able to return to this project pouch and complete the second panel. I'm considering waiting another week before I tackle the third. My wrist is not as bothersome but why tempt the devil...

Granny squares blanket

No progress.

Knitting

Learning to knit

A horizontal colour photograph of a pile of grey yarn curled up after having been fogged from the needles. The yarn rests on my crossed legs. I'm wearing a burgundy corduroy and checked dark blue and black shirt.

I am getting good at frogging, which according to the few craft youtubers I follow who knit, this is half the skill. So, progress?

I am undeniably getting better. A little daily practice has helped. I am more relaxed and not once have I messed up the knit stitch. I don't even require my back-up photo any longer (though you won't find me deleting it from my phone any time soon).

My main issue now happens when I make a mistake. I do not understand the instructions in my books to frog up to the mistake and start again. I do understand their images and instructions but when I look at the work in my hands, all sense of comprehension disappears. This is going to have to be a video tutorial. Often I am not near my computer when knitting, so I have found it easier to frog the whole thing.

A horizontal colour photograph of a small grey knitted rectangle on wooden needles by small ball of yarn rests on a wooden table. Around are a mug, a book, and some candle holders.

In the future, I will undeniably leave small mistakes alone and carry one, but for now, I'd like to know how to frog up to the mistake point and not back to the start.

This may sounds frustrating. I think I'm about a complete frogging number five on this simple pouch I'm working on, but I'm having fun. It's all about the learning, and like all the crafts I've picked up over the last few months, it's more about the processes than the finished projects.

Embroidery

Every now and again I embroider. It's a craft I enjoy but I don't see it rising to the top of my priorities. I go weeks without touching a WIP and then spent days on ones.

I so far have only purchased kits with pre-printed fabric. I enjoy not having to think too hard about the design but instead to be able to focus on the needle and thread.

Back in December, I found a blossom kit and purchased it with the view to start it in the Spring. Spring has become a difficult time of year for me. Pre long covid I would be propelled on my bicycle, back into the lanes that had been less accessible in winter. I would pack up my camping gear and sleep somewhere tucked under a yew tree or alongside a field. Now, I cannot do any of this. I still deeply feel the call to move, to return to activity after the long rest of winter but the long rest must continue. This is hard. I fight against my instincts and I am reminded of all I have lost.

A vertical colour photograph of an embroidery kit on lap. The print on the fabric is of a branch with pink cherry blossoms on. One small falling blossoms has been embroidered. The silver coloured needles
pokes into the fabric. In the background is a window bathed in light.

I didn't think an embroidery kit would solve all of this, but I see it as a step towards new rituals. I can't chase the blossoms as I did last year. I can't cycle to Abergavenny for lunch as I did when my body was in a different period of time. I can't go camping and listen to the bird as they rise away from any traffic. But I can bring blossoms in, even if just in embroidery form. I can stitch memories in. I can stitch my pain in. I can give space to the grief that still overwhelms me from time to time.

This might be working a little too well. I started the embroidery and promptly dissolved into racking tears the very same night. It is not a bad thing. I still have so much to release, to let go of. I have not touched the kit since but I know I will return to it soon. I enjoy it when I get to it, and I have much to whisper into the threads.