🧙‍♀️ Cowl Chaos: Season of the Witch (and Probably Coffee)

So… I’ve made 15 cowls in the last four weeks.

FIFTEEN.

I’d love to say it was part of a carefully planned autumn collection — you know, something Pinterest-perfect with colour palettes and strategy. But no. It’s just me, a hook, a cauldron of yarn, and an unexplainable burst of energy that can only be described as “season of the witch.” 🪄

Something about the darker nights, the first whiff of woodsmoke in the air, and that tiny bite of frost has unleashed full crochet mania. I don’t even know who they’re all for. I just… kept going. One minute I’m “testing a stitch,” the next I’m knee-deep in cowls wondering if I should start my own winter army.

They say creative flow is a blessing — and yes, it is — but it’s also a bit like being possessed. I’ll put the kettle on, think “I’ll just do a few rows before bed,” and suddenly it’s 2 a.m., I’m on my fifth colour combo, and the dog’s looking at me like I’ve lost all sense of reason.

Honestly, if anyone ever needs an example of hyperfocus in its purest, yarn-covered form — it’s me, sitting cross-legged in chaos, surrounded by 15 cowls and half a biscuit.

It must be the season of the witch, because there’s definitely magic (and mild madness) in the air. Every cowl seems to have its own little spirit — soft ones, bold ones, sparkly ones that absolutely refused to behave. None of them are planned, and I never write down the pattern. I just follow the vibe and hope for the best.

And apparently, the vibe is “make another one.” 😂

The best bit, though? People are actually buying them. Which is both heartwarming and slightly terrifying. There’s something so special about someone choosing a thing you made with your own two hands — something you conjured from chaos and caffeine — and wanting to wear it out in the world.

So yes, it’s cowl chaos up here on the mountain. My living room looks like a woolly rainbow exploded. I’ve got yarn in the sofa cushions, buttons in my hair, and the faint scent of coffee and witchcraft lingering in the air.

But you know what? I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Because for me, crochet isn’t just craft — it’s therapy, self-expression, and occasionally an extreme sport. It’s how I ride the storm of overthinking, how I pour all the noise in my brain into something soft and tangible.

And after fifteen cowls in four weeks?

I think I’ve earned myself a coffee. ☕️

Or maybe two.