Somehow, I never wrote about this.
In a state somewhat long ago and fairly far away, my cousin had a son. A while later, I got to meet said not-nephew and hang out with him for a few days. He was (and is) a wonder, bright, creative, all those superlatives proud relatives might express.
Sadly, as he is far away, and I do not get much free time, I don’t get to see him as often as I would like. This sucks, and is not fair. What’s a not-uncle to do?
The answer, it was clear, came from my own childhood. When one does not have people to play with, one creates them. And of course, as a crafting not-uncle, I could aid in this process.
Hobbes. Bill Watterson and Calvin and Hobbes were wonderful worlds as a kid, why not share them now? In the rare “real life” panels, he looked like this:
First, I needed a washable, durable yarn. At first, I thought acrylic, of the nothing can bust this variety. But acrylic isn’t terribly huggable, and I plan to be around for a while and thus able to repair things if needed. Hrm…
The answer, for this project, was Knit Picks, Shine Worsted, in Black, Clementine, and white.
Ok… now let’s start. Maybe I can even write up a pattern for… um… ok no that’s not going to… hrm… number… color change… ::flail::
Well… that didn’t go as planned. Time for some free-hand crochet. It worked for Iggy, right? I won’t have a pattern, but at this point, who cares? Let’s try that again…
Well… the colorwork isn’t awesome, but it could be worse.
Forge ahead and tally ho!
So, by the head I’d finally mostly figured out how to do color changes more neatly. Thank goodness, since there are more color changes in the head. Ears, tail, stuffing…
I’ll take it!
Of course, every responsible tiger needs a letter of introduction.
But if you’re a distinguished tiger of note, such as Hobbes, you can also write one yourself.
I also included a book of Calvin and Hobbes for when he got older. And received a very sweet phone call when they were going on vacation that my cousin and aunt were “making” him leave Hobbes behind, and he was quite worried that Hobbes would be lonely and tell me he was being abused.
Sometimes, it’s the little things.
That’s all for now!