This post may contain affiliate links.

Anyone who knows me can tell you that the local Target is like my second home. I’m there way more often than I should be, and it’s frankly embarrassing how much money I’ve saved with the 5% off red card. During one of my multitudinous shopping trips a couple years back, I purchased a metal beverage tub. Normal people fill it with ice and then plop in all the canned beverages for their backyard grilling parties. I am not normal. I filled mine with crochet and knitting projects.

craft bucket
Since I purchased it, the bucket has maintained a place of honor at the foot of my bed, just near my desk chair. I would put each crochet and knitting project into an individual bag (some drawstring, some zippered) and the bags would go in the bucket. This was the way of things until last fall. With the carpal tunnel flare up, I just couldn’t enjoy sitting and knitting or crocheting. The bucket became less a thing of joy, and more of a constant taunting. It sat there, staring at me as only an inanimate object can. “Don’t you wish you could crochet?” it would tease. Hands hurt too much to knit? Pity.” It seemed to say it with all the warmth of Severus Snape. At one point I finally had enough and moved it down to the basement, the equivalent of crafting purgatory.

Since my carpal tunnel surgery I’ve been doing much better, and I’ve gotten back into stitching. I’ve been bursting with ideas, and I’ve started a blanket, socks, a toy octopus, and two shawls. As I looked at the mess of project bags strewn all over the place, I realized it was time to bring back the bucket. I went down and retrieved it from the basement, returning it to its rightful place in my room.

Why am I so happy about bringing back the bucket? First of all, its return stands as a monument to my recovery. After struggling for so long, I am back! I have overcome a major challenge in my life and can step back onto the creative path. Second, I found my missing insurance ID card. Apparently it had been in the bucket in the basement this whole time. Who knew? Third, the bucket is a metaphor for my creativity. When the bucket was gone, I felt empty. Now, the bucket practically overflows with projects and I feel afresh with energy –rejuvenated. I am so excited about all the crafting to come.