A different kind of creativity

The cold air tugged at me, feeling especially cold on my neck and hands. I forgot my gloves so there wasn’t much I could do there, except push my hands deeper into my pocket. I could do something though for my neck. I pulled on my scarf, grateful that my daughter had crocheted it for me and gave it to me as a Christmas present. It felt good against my raw skin. 

When I finished up my walk I hung up my coat, but kept my scarf out. I looked closer at the color of the yarn and distinctive pattern. My daughter has been knitting and crocheting for the past two years. When we were first married, my wife used to embroider. My mom crotcheted for years, making colorful blankets.

I’ve long been inspired by other’s creative handiwork. My Amish grandmother and relatives used to crotchet doilies and ornamental mats made of intricate white fabric that they would use as table runners and on coffee tables. I would look at the doilies and be amazed at the intricate designs and artistry.

I wish I had my daughter’s or my grandmother’s skills, or even my father’s woodworking skills when he was alive. I lack those skills, but I’m creative in other ways. They create blankets and scarves. I create stories. 

How are you creative in your life?