One problem I have with not blogging as soon as I finish an object is that I either forget, or lose where I noted them, the details of what I used and how I did it. Case in point - this string bag. I used rope, actually - heavy string. I don't remember the size of crochet hook. What I do remember is that I based the bag on laughing purple goldfish's easy peasy bag using single crochet for the base, single crochet for part of the sides, double crochet for most of the rest of the sides, a few more rows of single crochet and then single crochet for the handles. This is it in its empty stage.
Here it is filled to the top with a number of knitting projects in those invaluable zip lock plastic bags (which keep the works in progress separate and also means I don't have to line the string bag); the knitting is hidden by scarf and sweater - it was a cool day and I had planned to do some KIPO'ing (knitting in public outdoors), thus the addition of sweater and scarf.
I am pleased with this bag; it holds a lot and expands nicely to hold even more, is sturdy, the handles work well in hand or over shoulder, and the colour makes me feel good.
Now I want to try a string bag in a lighter weight likely using some of that fifty year old linen yarn that was a thrift store find, the kind of bag that will scrunch into a pocket or purse and be there when needed at the market for produce or at the grocery store for groceries.
I'd also like to experiment with a less heavy rope and make a basket but starting with a square of crochet (or maybe knit it in a nubbly stitch) and working up from that in a bit of a fluted style.
Wearable garden #4 is planned to attach to this bag but I haven't done it yet; trying to decide what to plant for a fall garden that will go walking with me.
Also another story (mystery, of course) is presenting itself, bit by bit, like being increasingly pregnant and aware of the construction therein, and this is always a challenge and an adventure. I am fascinated by the creative process, by our urge and need for expression in so many different forms, so many different ways. The fibre I can put down and leave. The words forming themselves into sentences, into paragraphs, into a - story! - will not be put down until enough of it has formed somewhere in my head and then put down on paper. For years this was always in longhand. Now I can type it onto Mac - but - last story got handwritten and then typed so this may also. There's something very satisfying about sitting in the garden or on the bench by the library or at the table by the ocean and writing on that yellow pad of soft paper watching the words pour out of the end of the pen.