MY MOM: THE HAPPY HOOKER

by Kim Marvel

My mom referred to herself as a “happy hooker.” That phrase raised eyebrows in mixed company until she explained that she hooked rugs and wall-hangings. Hooking wall-hangings was a focus of her creative talents during her middle-adult years when my grandmother lived in our home. In addition to providing a creative outlet, it helped Mom pass the time when she sat through long afternoons with her frail, visually-impaired mother.

Mom’s hooked products were not the typical rugs that provide floor coverings. Months in the making, each one was a unique hand-designed work of art. Several were given as gifts. The subject matter of each piece was selected carefully based on the recipient’s personal history or interests. Much like hand-made quilts, they told a story and were valued possessions.

Each work began with a 3’ by 4’ piece of burlap. Burlap was chosen as the backing material because the loose weaving provides spaces to hook and pull strands up from beneath. Using a black marker, Mom sketched a drawing directly on the burlap, taking time to get the perspective and dimensions just right. Next was a trip to the thrift store. She searched for a variety of woolen clothes made of bright, solid colors. Back at home, she used a hand-cranked cutter to make long narrow strips of cloth. Think of running flat dough through a pasta cutter to produce long, flat noodles – it’s a similar process. The narrow cloth strips, sorted by color, were stored in plastic bags. Finally, using a hooking tool, she patiently worked on one strip at a time, pulling a ¼ inch loop up through the burlap, following the pattern. Hook, pull up a short loop, hook, pull up again, over and over. Hour after hour of hooking. She was a perfectionist. I remember times when she shook her head and removed several strips because they were not the right color or shade. But patience and perfectionism paid off in the end with each piece evolving into a remarkable work of art.

The subjects of her wall hangings varied widely. One depicted a steam locomotive billowing great clouds of smoke. It was made for my parents’ cabin home, located near a railroad track, where it still hangs in a train-themed bedroom. For my sister in Minnesota, she hooked a bucolic farm scene with a bright red barn surrounded by snowy fields. It warms the front room of their home on cold, winter nights. For my brother and his wife, who have restored and lived in vintage, century-old homes, Mom created a “painted lady” Victorian house wall-hanging. In my case, I was fortunate to attend a semester of college in South America. The following year, Mom sketched out a Peruvian flute player accompanied by a llama. Interestingly, she found inspiration for the image from a page out of a South American calendar. But there is more to the story about our prized wall-hanging. The coat of the llama consists of something other than strips of cloth. Our family dog in the 1960s and 70s, a Pekingese, shed a great amount of hair. Mom saved the hair after each brushing. She intended to use the dog hair in the wall-hanging, but the hair was too short to hold together like a piece of yarn. So she carded the dog hair with sheep wool and spun the combination into long, yarn-like threads. The hybrid of dog hair and sheep wool was then hooked to make the llama. Because of that creative act, 50 years later we still have the presence of the family dog in our wall-hanging!

By the time Mom completed her “hooking” phase, she had created 8-10 of these masterpieces. Some were entered in art shows and received high ratings. I know my siblings and our spouses value them as much now as the day they were made.

Hooking, like crocheting, knitting, needlepoint, and quilting, is less commonly practiced nowadays. Many of these traditional activities were done in small social groups and filled quiet time with productive work. Now the world moves much faster with many more distractions such as TV and smart phones. But we can celebrate the times and the people for whom these time-intensive, hand-created activities were not only forms of art but also produced clothing and useful household items. I’m sure some readers continue to practice some of these art forms. I tip my hat to you. And I’m proud to say that my mom was a happy hooker.