You’ve two choices when you yarn bomb, according to the book Yarn Bombing: leave your bomb when it’s late, dark, and you have less chance of being apprehended; or go out in the light of day and just act like you are supposed to be there, confident and unruffled. I’m not very good at the former, it gets to about 10pm and, quite frankly, I am ready for bed. I’m too tired to muster up the energy to go and bomb, and I want to enjoy the process.
The latter is fine, except when you are trying to manage two young children at the same time. Fortunately today I had arranged to come over the only friend I have who wouldn’t think I need sectioning when I told them what I was doing, and the only one game enough to help. She is American so I’m going to give her an American pseudonym: Georgia, after the State (she vetoed my first choice of Brittany-Ann, and pointed out that she had already commented using her real name, but this is more fun for me!).
We had four children between us, so to get them involved I told them my plan. “Why?” Betty asked, quite reasonably. To make the world a more beautiful place, I explained. Plus, I had a fun idea that we would take them all in disguise. “Why?” my daughter asked, again, a reasonable question. How to explain it without making it seem naughty or wrong? Fortunately Georgia sensed my panic and saved me. “It’ll be a surprise for your neighbours!”. Ah, the magic word surprise. We have a rule in our house that we don’t have secrets, only surprises. It’s to try and avoid anyone else trying to make the children keep secrets from us. Any nice, legitimate secret can be a surprise. It’s a small thing, but it’s a way of trying to protect them.
Anyway, there we were, me, Georgia, Buzz Lightyear, Captain Betty, a fairy and a pumpkin in a pushchair. It wasn’t far to where we planned to bomb, on a busy crossroads. Buzz and Captain Betty scrabbled for stones on the pavement and pretended they weren’t with us. I got to work whip stitching the cozy onto the pedestrian light. Despite my initial fears, it was a perfect fit. I had measured the pole, but I always have trouble assessing the length of foundation chain I need to make the required width.
The book, which seems to have become my Bible, also says that most yarn crafters out there will have a stash of yarn that they thing they are will never use, their Stash of Shame, full of nasty acrylics in gaudy colours donate by some well meaning relative. Well, I raided my such stash and found a predominance of orange, which gave me the idea of adding varying shades of pinks that would give it an air of a sunset.
The bumpiness on the pole is a laminated advert for a ladies only night, apparently involving semi naked men. It’s been on the for ages and is pretty bad taste, as well as probably illegally flyposted, so I didn’t feel that bad covering it up.
I just concentrated on my sewing. I didn’t make eye contact with anyone stopped at the lights, confident, confident, I really am supposed to be here, I’m performing a civic duty. According to Georgia a guy on a motorbike was trying not to seem interested. As I was sewing a police car drove past. I forgot this is the road the station is on. No-one bothered me though, and it took less than 10 minutes.
Let’s hope it stays up for longer than that!