Let me you introduce you to Bree. I don’t know how to put it any other way: Bree does what she sets out to do. She crochets, gardens, paints, cans food, macramé’s, and works in an iron foundry surrounded by men. You can watch her video interview as well.
My grandmother, Nanny, did several fiber arts: cross-stitch, crochet, and sewing. I’m positive I got the craft bug from her for sure. When we were kids, Nanny decided to teach each of her granddaughters a skill: she tried to teach my cousin Ashley crochet, and to teach me cross-stitch. She gifted her kids these three-strand big bulky blankets and they were so cool. She passed away when I was 16 before I could learn crochet from her, and I was sad for a while seeing her crafts because in many ways she was more of a mother to me than my own mom was.
But, as fate would have it, my first boyfriend’s mother was a crocheter and one day I just directly asked her to teach me. She gave me a ball of white yarn and a H hook, and she taught me how to chain 20, turn and come back with single crochet stitches, turn and come back with half double crochet stitches, and then turn and come back with double crochet stitches. That year for my birthday she bought me 3 skeins of baby yarn, my own H hook, and a baby blanket book to get me started. I didn’t stick with it then, but I still retained it.
A few year laters, when I was 21, I made a best friend who was more or less a little old lady trapped in a 20-something body. She could pump out a blanket in a night. This is when my love affair with crochet really took off. She taught me to make granny squares and for the first few nights, let me steal from her scrap stash, before demanding I buy yarn for myself. She and I would binge TV – the Sopranos and Grey’s Anatomy – and crochet together. Then, lo and behold, an ugly square emerged fully equipped with loose joints and wonky tension for the world to remember forever (that blanket currently lives between the beds of my kids). Then, I made a hat that I was proud of. Then, I wanted a plant hanger, but didn’t know macrame, so I free-handed a hat-ish shape that had straps, and then bam, I had a crochet plant hanger. Sadly my friend passed away a few years ago. So now, I’m just the weird old lady friend with a garden and craft shit everywhere.
When I was 25, my grandfather called me. He was cleaning out the crap at his house and wanted me to have Nanny’s stuff because “I know you’re the only one who’ll do anything with it” (crochet hadn’t really stuck with Ashley). So he shows up at my house with 3 garbage bags of yarn. It included the iconic balls used to make the 3-strand bulky blankets (2 white and one burgundy), an unfinished dishcloth made with cotton, an unfinished tree skirt, and the patterns for the ugly stockings we all had. It made me feel so amazing with all the WIPS and all the like odds and ends. I don’t know – I felt like we were besties of the same mind or something. I tied off the tree skirt and I use it every year in its unfinished state. I sat down with my grandmothers yarn and made my mother a blanket for Christmas. It felt like a coming together of 3 generations: her mother’s yarn and made by her daughter. I cried giving it to her. It was an awful pattern that I can’t bear to try again, but it makes me happy that it’s an around the way heirloom.
I did stick with cross-stitch as well. I sold cross-stitch on Etsy for a while. Here was my best seller:
Though I will occasionally sell some amigurumi for a few dollars or some hats at work for like $20, I haven’t marketed or sold anything. I do it purely for fun and think of the payment as a thanks that people offer for my trouble and the cost of yarn. My boyfriend and kids ask for stuff all the time. The blanket was requested by my boyfriend and the mushroom purse and chapstick holder I freehanded for my 11 yr old.
Sometimes crochet is a good outlet when I’m angry. I rage crochet – it soothes me.. the repetitive motions and whatnot…the focus you need to be counting and looking.. especially when it’s thread… and finding your stitch. Helps me to not be thinking the garbage in my head and just do. Usually I zone.. there’s nothing in there except 1..2.. inc… 1..2..inc.. oh wait this was row.. 3,4,5… dammit tears out row 1,2,3 inc… 1,2,3inc.
I’ve been crocheting for 15 years now and feel very good about it. I can do whatever I want with it now. I actually had downtime at work recently and took a hook with me and the amount of people dumbfounded surprised me. I made this guy while working in an iron factory surrounded by men.
It was at this point in the interview when my curiosity diverted us off the topic of crochet. An iron factory? I asked her to tell me more. How did she get her start?
I started working at an iron factory out of necessity. So I got married and had a family and all that, and got into bookkeeping after going to community college after my kid started kindergarten. But then my marriage broke, and my daughter and I moved back to my parents’ house and I needed a job. However, I had done customer service jobs and office jobs for years and was tired of the mental carryover into my home life. I thought working in a monotonous assembly line work I would be able to escape that and also have some time to confront demons in my head. I didn’t know then that I’d actually come to really enjoy it.
I work in a foundry. We use sand molds and molten metal to pour castings. We make everything from hinge pieces to engine manifolds. I started in the sand room making pieces to be inside of the molds so that parts are hollow. It was awful, but it was an income. A few weeks later I got told I was filling in for a day in the grinding room, which is where the seams get removed and blemishes are cleaned up. We use pneumatic tools (air powered) and it was fun. I mean it’s work and it’s hard, but I felt proud of it. There was one woman in the room when I visited. That first day I was hooked. I asked the bosses in the room and the HR office to transfer and I got to stay. I worked with the tools for 6 months until I asked my bosses if they ever needed any help outside the department I was in. They moved me to a bigger machine, and a few months later I moved to the cleaner machines, which is like a big rock tumbler or a dryer but I load a bunch of fresh parts covered in sand and they come out shiny silver and I send them to be ground by the grinder. Then I moved to another machine that’s like the king of the department. Now mind you I’m 5’2 and like a size 14 in this grinding department of like 50 dudes. As I ranked up and moved around, we’ve added more women to the staff and I feel kinda responsible for showing we are capable and I myself can keep up with anything these “men” can do. So while I come home daily filthy and sore and I’ve gotten hurt, I’m so proud. My favorite job is the cleaner and I’ve been working my way back to that, but for now I’m back in the detailing room since my surgery in July.
I do see myself as an artist. I also paint, garden, can food and macrame.
I try to just enjoy some part of everything. I’m the fun obnoxious mom at softball that cheers and barks and goes nuts and the other moms hate me, but like f that man: I want to love this life. I dance at work and sing to people and just try to make light… it’s a dark place – why not try to make it better? I’m grown. I made a mess and stood the hell back up and you better believe I’m not letting anyone silence me. Ever.
