One of my favorite childhood memories is making potholders. Remember those metal looms and nylon loops? I bought loops and loom this week, and sat down to achieve inner peace and serenity by weaving, even if my loom was only ten inches square and the material felt like cut up pantyhose. I remember the craft being easy and quick; it suited me; I am not a patient person, but I like to imagine myself making crafts , even if I don’t actually make them. (See yesterday’s post.) As for my potholders, I remembered making dozens of neatly woven bright squares, beautiful and useful, unlike most cross stitch, for example. I like to cross stitch, but I know I'm just making a new dustcatcher. I'm not a cross stitch addict. They are the people who are always looking for a bare spot: a wall, a refrigerator, a shelf. One addict, having run out of room above the chair rail in her dining room, took to hanging her productions below the rail. I didn’t see this; I only heard about it. Maybe it worked. Maybe she made an edgy decorating statement. How should I know? My idea of edgy decorating is, well, I guess I don’t have a clue what edgy decorating is and I might as well admit it. Back to the potholder. The loops were, well, shorter than I remembered. It was difficult to hook the loop over opposite pegs because the darn things kept slipping off and flying through the air. It was even harder to weave the horizontal loops through the vertical loops. When I finally had every peg filled, I couldn’t remember how to finish the edges, something about loop over loop over loop...but my hands remembered. It was like riding a bicycle; you take a few tumbles if you haven't ridden in a while, but the spinal cord eventually remembers, and off you go. The finished piece was no more than six inches by six inches: much too small for a potholder. Even though it is too small and hideously ugly, I can't bring myself to throw it away. I'll use it for something. Maybe it's a coaster...