“Wait… People Are Actually Buying My Stuff?!”

So… apparently people are buying my makes now.

Like — actual, real-life humans are exchanging money for things I crocheted while half-watching true crime and drinking tea strong enough to strip paint. 😳

Honestly, I’m a bit shook. I still can’t get my head around it. Every time someone leaves a lovely review, I go through three emotional stages:

1. Disbelief (“Are you sure you meant me?”)
2. Joyful squealing (usually loud enough to scare the cat)
3. Panic (“Oh god, how did I make that one again?”)

Because here’s the thing — most of what I make are one-offs. I don’t write patterns down. I have vague notes like “use the soft squishy green” or “that stitch that looked cute but broke my brain,” which are about as useful as a chocolate teapot.

My gonks are all unique — each one a little bit weird, a little bit wonderful, and completely unrepeatable. You want another just like the one you saw last month? Sorry, babes, even I couldn’t recreate that if I tried. 😂

I started crocheting as therapy, really — something to quiet the brain chaos and feel like I was doing something just for me. Then somehow, between the cups of tea, the yarn avalanches, and the “just-one-more-row” marathons, I accidentally built a little business out of it.

And it’s mad — in the best way — that people see what I make and think, “Yep, I want that in my home.” It’s humbling. It’s motivating. It’s also slightly terrifying. But mostly, it’s bloody brilliant.

It’s not just about the crochet anymore — it’s about family, heart, and connection.

My kids think it’s hilarious that Mum’s “silly little gonks” are out in the world bringing other people joy. My partner has accepted that every flat surface now belongs to yarn. And my North Wales mountain house has somehow turned into a part-time craft cave, part-time dispatch centre, and full-time glitter trap.

Do I want to quit my job and crochet full time? Nah. Crochet is my calm, my creative chaos, my way of switching off. Turning it into a full-time hustle might ruin the magic.

But this — this — little burst of community and kindness? That’s what keeps me going.

I’m learning, slowly, to lean into it. To accept the compliments without apologising, to celebrate the wins without brushing them off. To remind myself that handmade means heart-made — and that every sale is someone choosing a piece of my time, my humour, and my chaos to take home.

So to everyone who’s bought something, left a review, or just followed along while I try to remember where I put my hook — thank you. You lot are the reason my little mountain magic keeps growing.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a half-finished gonk on the sofa giving me side-eye. Apparently, he’s next in line for adoption. 😂