Let me introduce you to the newest member of the family:
To Kitty he’s “MY Octopus”
To Elma he’s “Dap!” (Admittedly along with most other things in our house that are not Mama or Dadada)
And to H and I, hearing a little alphabet ditty that Kitty used to chant come singing through our memories, he’s “O-O-Ocapus”
He is universally beloved.
(Look Mama – I’m asleep!)
I finally finished hand sewing in the zip at the weekend, and as I don’t have a cushion pad at the moment he’s firmly stuffed with a good quantity of leftover quilt wadding (see I knew there was a reason I didn’t throw it away).
And I think he’s rather cute if I say so myself! Or at least, he is when he’s stuffed and all zipped up and being fluffy on the floor. If you were perhaps to let your husband near the completed but unstuffed Octopus shell and he were, just for the sake of argument, to put it on his head, you might find that your sweet and cuddly sea creature looked almost exactly like an Ood. In a properly disturbing, thank goodness the children are asleep kind of a way. Not that I would know of course!
He is also remarkable efficient as a seatbelt – according to Kitty that is – and I can testify that while wrapped up in his fluffy tentacles she was not in any way shape or form thrown about the lounge by the movement of the earth as it hurtles through space.
As far as the pattern and construction go, he’s made almost exactly to the pattern; I fudged a little bit joining the top and bottom because either I can’t count or I can’t crochet, and at that stage aesthetics very much take the upper hand over strict adherence to the instructions anyway.
Considering that if you count the shawl I made for Elma last year, and the bag I made in my learn to crochet class years and years ago, this is only the third thing that I’ve ever made entirely out of crochet, I’m really rather pleased with how he’s turned out. Kat’s instructions are beautifully clearly written and the one serious advantage of chunky yarn and a 9mm hook is that you can definitely see what you’re doing. You can also see when you’ve gone really wrong because your octopus leg starts to look like it’s grown barnacles, but that’s a story for another day – or possibly something I shall just deny ever happened!
The only problem, and that should probably be ‘problem’ is that the family seem to think that ‘My Octopus’ is a little bit lonely. H has suggested a companion in blue, or possibly purple, Kitty keeps suggesting pink, and Elma, well, Elma mostly says “Dap!” so I think she’s claiming the orange one for herself. Just how long I can withstand this active encouragement to buy more yarn and spend more time playing crochet and answering all questions with “9, 10, 11… yes?” I cannot say, but at least when the lounge is overrun with a whole rainbow of Octopi I know we’ll be cozy. And, if I’m really really cunning about it, it means I need to make another quilt to generate a bit more wadding for their innerds.
It’s true. Machiavelli had nothing on me!