You know that feeling when you start a new crochet project and imagine yourself whipping through it at lightning speed, finishing in record time, and proudly showing off your beautiful creation? Yeah, well… apparently, my crochet hook and I have some very different ideas about how quickly this blanket should be finished!

My Stashbuster Granny Stripe Afghan, made with Caron Big Cakes yarn, is slowly but surely growing, and I couldn’t be happier with how it’s turning out. Just look at those colors! The gorgeous mix of minty greens, teal, lavender, and soft gray gives me all the cozy beach cottage vibes. It’s like crocheting a little piece of the ocean, complete with sea glass and misty coastal mornings.

Of course, there’s one tiny complication: my fingers haven’t exactly been cooperating.

Thanks to chemotherapy-induced neuropathy, crocheting takes a little more time and patience than it used to. My fingers sometimes have their own agenda, and unfortunately, that agenda doesn’t always include making speedy progress on granny stripes. Some days, getting through a few rows feels like a major accomplishment. Other days, I manage a little more.

But here’s the important part: I’m still making progress!

It might not be the kind of progress that makes a time-lapse video particularly exciting, unless you enjoy watching someone crochet three stitches, adjust their hands, take a break, and repeat. I suspect that video might not go viral. Although, honestly, we could call it The World’s Slowest Crochet Challenge and see what happens!

The beauty of a granny stripe blanket is that I don’t have to think too hard about complicated stitch patterns. Once I find my rhythm, I can settle in, enjoy the color changes, and watch the blanket grow one little stripe at a time. The Caron Big Cakes yarn does all the color coordinating for me, which is wonderful because I have enough to keep track of without adding a complicated color chart to the mix.

And yes, this blanket has a special purpose! I’m making it as a surprise Christmas gift for my mom. I want it to fit beautifully into our beach cottage-style home, where those soft coastal colors will look right at home draped over a chair or snuggled up on the sofa.

That means I have a Christmas deadline, which is perhaps not the wisest decision for someone whose fingers occasionally behave like they’ve forgotten they’re supposed to be helping.

Still, I’m determined to keep going at a pace that works for me. Recovery has taught me that progress doesn’t always happen as quickly as we’d like, and that’s okay. Sometimes progress means finishing a row. Sometimes it’s just picking up the hook again.

So, one granny stripe at a time, this blanket is getting there. My fingers might be slow, but they’re stubborn, and I have a feeling this afghan is going to be worth every stitch.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a Christmas surprise to crochet. No rushing, no racing, just yarn, a golden hook, and a whole lot of determination!

Slow and steady wins the blanket race. 🧶💚

Well, Mom is going to Rhinebeck without me this year.

Technically, she has been going without me for years, because it has been years since I’ve been to the New York Sheep & Wool Festival. But this year feels a little different.

This year, Celtic Yarns will be there.

Mom will be heading to Rhinebeck with our yarn, setting up at the Dachshund Daddy Knits booth, surrounded by sheep, knitters, gorgeous sweaters, and enough yarn to make my bank account nervous just looking at pictures.

And I will be home in Maine.

As much as I would love to be there, I’m still recovering from cancer treatment. After chemotherapy and radiation, my body has made it abundantly clear that it would prefer I take things a little slower. Apparently, recovery is not the time to spend an entire weekend walking around a massive fiber festival, carrying bags of yarn, and convincing myself that I’m “just going to look.”

Which, let’s be honest, was never going to happen anyway.

I am cancer free now, and that is something I am incredibly grateful for. ❤️ But recovery takes time, and the chemotherapy-induced neuropathy has slowed me down too. It hasn’t stopped me from knitting, though. I’m still putting stitches on needles—even if those stitches occasionally take considerably longer than they used to.

So while Mom is in Rhinebeck, I’ll be experiencing the festival from several hundred miles away through photos, videos, texts, and probably FaceTime.

I have already mentally assigned her several jobs:

Take pictures of the booth.

Take pictures of the yarn.

Take pictures of interesting sweaters.

Take pictures of sheep.

Show me anything remotely interesting.

And most importantly, DO NOT BUY SOMETHING AMAZING WITHOUT SHOWING ME FIRST.

Celtic Yarns will have our Irish Aran yarn and Sport Weight Merino, both from our wonderful 300-year-old mill in Ireland. I’m sad that I won’t be there to see everyone’s reactions to the yarn in person, but I’m also incredibly proud that our little company will be represented at such an amazing fiber festival.

There is definitely a little FOMO involved.

But I’m learning that recovery means celebrating what I can do instead of beating myself up over what I can’t do yet.

So Mom gets Rhinebeck.

I’ll be here in Maine, knitting, recovering, editing Celtic Yarns videos, and demanding live updates.

And if she comes home with yarn that I haven’t approved of first?

Well.

We’ll have words.

After all, I may be recovering from cancer, but I still have standards. 🧶😂

There’s just something magical about the beginning of fall. Maybe it’s the cooler mornings, the changing leaves, or the sudden urge to put approximately 47 blankets on the couch “just in case.” Whatever it is, I am here for it.

And now we have officially entered my favorite stretch of the year: the “ber” months. September, October, November, December… otherwise known as the months when it becomes completely acceptable to wear fuzzy socks, drink ridiculous amounts of coffee, and surround yourself with enough yarn to make a small sheep nervous.

Speaking of yarn, I am ready to knit.

I’ve been looking forward to pulling out the cozy stuff—soft wool, squishy yarns, chunky textures, and all those gorgeous fall colors that make me want to knit absolutely everything. Deep reds, golden yellows, pumpkin oranges, forest greens… basically, if it looks like something I’d find in a pile of autumn leaves, I want it in my yarn basket.

Of course, my knitting plans come with a bit of a disclaimer these days.

Thanks to chemo-induced neuropathy, my hands and fingers still don’t always cooperate with my grand knitting ambitions. Sometimes they’re perfectly happy to knit. Other times they seem to have collectively decided, “Nope. We’re taking the day off.”

So I’m learning to go slow.

And honestly? That’s probably not the worst lesson to take into fall.

I don’t have to finish a sweater in three days. I don’t have to crank out a dozen projects before Christmas. I can knit a few rows, put the needles down, stretch my hands, and come back to it later. There’s something rather lovely about letting a project take its time.

Besides, knitting slowly gives me more time for the important stuff.

Like coffee.

A hot cup of coffee beside me, a basket of soft yarn at my feet, a good knitting project in my lap, and the crisp fall air outside? That sounds pretty close to heaven to me.

So bring on the chilly mornings, colorful leaves, cozy blankets, steaming mugs, and ridiculously soft yarn.

I’m easing into fall one stitch—and one cup of coffee—at a time.