Left-Handers Day

With all apologies to A Lefty Crochets, I should change the name of this blog to “Sinister Crochet” , muhahahha.

Because of course, I always have an evil plan brewing (kidding!) I’ve always been a lefty and always crocheted left handed. I was just a kid in the mid seventies when southpaws got their “official” holiday. My Grandma, who seemed to constantly travel, hit the motherlode in those days when it came to bringing home gift-shop items. No more giant pencils or vinyl coin purses for me. Didja know that the slogans on coffee mugs and pens were designed to be read while holding them in your right hand? I wore my lefty tee-shirts with pride. (“If the left side of the brain controls the right side of the body, then LEFTIES are the only ones in their RIGHT minds!”) – that was a gym class favorite. (If I didn’t stand out enough being freakishly tall with giant glasses in sixth grade – a bright yellow shirt announcing another reason I didn’t fit the norm was just the icing on the pop-tart of adolescence.)

Some notable freaks (dexterous fellows?) we’re in company with include Ringo Starr and Kurt Cobain, Tom Cruise and Benny Hill, Picasso, DaVinci, Julius Caesar, Bill Clinton and the POTUS GHW Bush. Not to mention Ned Flanders of Simpson’s fame, and a host of sports figures too numerous to mention, none of whom crochet, to my knowledge. I know Rosie Grier did needlepoint but I don’t know which hand he used and I refuse to dig any deeper on the subject. Unless you want to note that there aren’t shovels designed for left-handed people, but there is a football pass called the “left hand shovel”.


When I first copied my mother’s hand movements when learning to crochet, and we figured out I wouldn’t be able to do it righty, I sat across from her. Then we tried instruction books balanced with a hand mirror. Somehow, with repetition and just being able to watch how she moved the yarn with her fingers and the hook, I was able to grasp the basic technique. Must be one of those left-handed spatial ability things. Yet, I still can’t wrap my head around basic garment construction. Go figure.

I leave with a video of an attempted plastic-bag coaster-cum-hotpad some time before I realized that even crocheted plastic will melt if you try to grab a 325 degree cookie tray with it. It’s being punched and spun by my (look for it) right-handed child.


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