Someone linked to , and it really struck a chord for me. My own experience, having started to crochet a little more than a year ago, exactly mirrors his, with one crucial difference. I decided to make something for someone who was dear to me. I thought about the colour, the item, what it was for. I was thinking along the same lines as Bob:
[R]egardless of how good the object itself is, it is an inarguable testament to the fact that I chose to spend dozens of quiet hours making stitch after stitch, all the while thinking about her and how much she means to me.
So when I was informed that it had been thrown in the bin, it hurt more than all the other mean-spirited stuff that punctured our lifelong relationship.
I kept crocheting, of course, for more appreciative recipients, although I’m running out of things to make and people to foist them on.
One thing I’m not sure Bob should have shared:
The fact that the TSA is explicitly fine with you bringing a satchel full of foot-long sharpened metal spikes onto a plane as long as its accompanied by some string really says something about how meaningless these security rules are.
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