Getting Crafty

I’m spending quite a bit of time at the hospital with my Dad lately. Fortunately my sister and my brother have been here to help take shifts with my mom as Dad recovers from his bypass surgery. After 20 days in the ICU, he’s still drifting in and out of sleep, delirium and having some pretty funny hallucinations. Each day seems to be a little better physically, but the ICU psychosis is something we could do without*.

I spend my hospital time these days hanging out with dad, scratching his back, watching Cash Cab, and helping my mom cheat at her crosswords (thanks to Google). We try to keep dad connected to his reality by quizzing him about details of his life….where did he serve in the military? What street does he live on? What was the name of the dog he most recently owned?

When he gets too (annoyed to respond anymore) tired, he drifts off and I open my laptop. I check Twitter. I write posts. I take a peek at Facebook. Watching a movie would be too loud, so I surf around the interwebs for home health care services, support groups, news, etc. I start “window” shopping for the kids’ Christmas and build their Amazon Wish Lists.

I’m running out of stuff to do. I may need to pick up a new hobby. Hmmm. It needs to be:

• Portable (To travel back and forth from the hospital.)
• Functional (I can’t have more crap to dust.)
• Cheap (I am too poor for expensive hobbies.)
• Time consuming, but not long-term (Dad’s gonna be here awhile longer, but I don’t want to make this project a lifetime thing)
• Gift-able (Nothing says (I’m poor) “love” more than a handmade present this holiday season, right?

Hmmm. How about knitting? Yeah, there are a ton of knitters and crochet-ers out there twiddling their sticks day and night making all sorts of knitwear and blankets and potholders and crap. I need to start small and simple.

Ahhh. How about this?

Yep, a Candy Cane Condom. Apparently hanging unprotected candy canes from your holiday tree is not only a nuisance, but a hazard. We must now envelop our candy with yarn and attach a string for hanging (silly me thought that’s what the hook shape was for. What the hell do I know?) Let’s not forget the bell. It’s a festive alarm system that screams “someone’s got their hands on your candy! ATTACK!”

Or there’s this.

The knitted knativity scene. Finally my kids can enjoy commemorating the blessed event of Christ’s birth without poking themselves in the eye with that damn poky shepherds crook. Don’t even get me started on the strangulation hazard better known as the pesky angel halo. I especially love how the instructions call for “three balls of flesh.” Hmmm. I should be able to get that no problem. I AM in a hospital, after all.

Oh wait. There’s this!

The Christmas Tree Hat OR Centerpiece! There’s nothing I love more than a multitasking gift. I could wear it to a Christmas party and, after explaining that I, in fact, do NOT have brain tumors, can quickly pop off the hat and place it in the center of the buffet table. What says “Happy Holidays” more than a used hat next to the green bean casserole?

Then again, do I really want to take on a whole new skill? I’ve never knitted before and mom’s not a knitter, so she’s no use to me there. Maybe I should go back to one of the crafts of my youth – cross stitching. Ahh yes. There’s nothing more fun than sorting through twenty shades of pink trying to figure out “posy” from “petunia” from “blush” from “bashful”, right? Let’s see….

Here we go. Who doesn’t love a little tongue-in-cheek handmade bathroom art? Maybe I could make one of these freakish doll toilet paper covers to go with it?

I’m sure Boo’s Kindergarten teacher would LOVE it. Who doesn’t want to be loved and remembered every time the recipient goes to the can?

Oh here it is. This is perfect.

Simple, clear and to the point. I can knock these babies out fast and make enough for every ICU nurse that we’ve had over the last three weeks. I’m sure after a 12-hour shift with obnoxious ICU patients, they’d love it.

*The ICU psychosis is a temporary condition. He’s expected to get over it once he’s out of the ICU, sees daylight and gets his bearings on the world again. Sitting in a nearly-windowless room on heavy medication for nearly three weeks would drive anyone nutty as a fruitcake. My psychosis, on the other hand, is a part of my general warped neurosis. So you can fully expect it to be intact long after dad gets his pass out of the ICU.