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Hanging by a thread at Mooroopna Zoom club

Remote crocheting.

Is this what we've come to?

But different times demand new ways, so when the offer came to join a crochet and book club on Zoom I jumped.

Who knows when you might need an emergency doily or a crocheted face mask in these strange days?

In this global war on the coronavirus we all have to do our bit.

If the internet was around during the Blitz on London my granny would have been right in there Zooming scarves for the troops or crocheting attractively patterned muzzle covers for Bren guns.

So let's get down to it.

This session has 10 ladies from the newly formed Crafty Readers based at the Mooroopna Education and Activity Centre. It's a monthly gathering of like-minded souls who love books and practical crafts such as crochet and sewing. They have held only one face-to face meeting since the dreaded virus arrived and brought the now familiar lockdown scenario.

Tonight Sharan is teaching us how to crochet a granny square. We're using eight-ply wool and a number five hook that looks like a shepherd's crook.

Except me — I'm using a number six hook and a ball of thin red wool that looks slightly stronger than Christmas ribbon. On reflection, I think this was the start of my troubles.

Apparently, we are a mixture of beginners and experienced crocheters. Simone and Sue are just here for the books and are sitting back and watching, which is not exactly the Blitz spirit, but there you are.

Loretta says she's been in a book club before, but never a craft club. Loretta could be a challenge.

Mandy's a quadruple threat with knitting, sewing, crochet and reading under her belt. She's one to watch.

Sue says she has been crafty all her life but it's unclear whether this is a boast or a disturbing admission of a life gone wrong.

Someone says they have read about coronavirus virus being transmitted on library books.

“I've heard of people washing notes and books with Pine O Cleen,” Simone says.

“Pour some gin on it,” Jan says helpfully.

Enough of this nonsense.

Sharan holds up her number five hook and a thread of turquoise-coloured eight-ply wool.

“Right — to get started, tie your wool to the hook. Use a granny knot or any other knot you know,” she says.

“Now thread the wool over a finger and pull your hook through the loop and you've started your first chain,” Sharan says, with a deft movement of fingers, wool and hook.

Loretta's little Zoom window lights up.

“Hang on, I've got no idea what you are talking about,” she says.

Thank goodness for that. I thought it was just me.

Sharan patiently backtracks several times until everyone has tied a wool thread on their hooks and started their first chain. Then it's on to stitches, clusters and trebles.

“No clusters in Shepp please,” Cathy pipes up.

More demonstrations — two chain, three chain, slip-stitch, corners and holes.

“I was just starting to get a rhythm up and then I realised my hook was going in the wrong hole,” Helen says straight-faced.

“I never knew crochet was R-rated,” Robyn jumps in. Well, someone had to.

Fifteen minutes pass by and I realise everyone is looking down and concentrating hard. Everyone that is, except bookworms Sue and Simone, who looks nice and relaxed with a cup of something.

Eventually, Sharan asks the crocheters to show us what they've got.

I'm dumbfounded when they all hold up clusters, chains and the beginnings of a square.

My red wool thread remains flimsily attached to my number six hook. That's it from me.

Jan holds up what looks to my technical eye like a double crochet with a three-chain cluster.

“It's a bit of a dog's breakfast, I missed a hole,” she says.

But it's a start.

Mandy has not said a word during the entire session, now she holds up nearly an entire granny square. Obviously the quiet achiever.

Then the truth comes out. I'm in the company of women and everyone has learned to sew, knit and crochet at some level at their mother's or grandmother's knee.

And I thought this was a level playing field. So much for the Blitz spirit.

All agree they'll each complete 10 squares and then stitch them all together to make a big rug and offer it to MEAC for donation to someone who needs to keep warm this winter.

Julie takes charge.

“May 12 is our next meeting. Everyone bring a square. It's like riding a bike — we have to keep at it,” she says.

That's the spirit.