Confession: I have a WIP graveyard. It’s not a cute one either — it’s bags of half-finished crochet shoved under the back bed, each one containing a project I swore I’d come back to. The problem was never the crochet.
It was the missing context: the hook size I didn’t write down, the yarn label I binned, the pattern link I lost, the “safe place” I definitely wouldn’t remember. And once I realised that was the real issue, I knew I needed a system that could hold the details my brain kept dropping.
2020: The crochet rabbit hole &
Like a lot of people in 2020, I tried a few new hobbies. Watercolours. Digital drawing. Embroidery. None of them really stuck – until I saw someone crocheting. That was the spark. And once I’d pulled on that thread, I fell straight down the crochet rabbit hole.
I started collecting patterns, watching YouTube tutorials, and I bought a terrible £15 crochet kit on Amazon just to see if I could actually do it. I’m pretty sure I still have that wonky little scarf somewhere.
What surprised me most was the quiet. When I was making something, my brain finally calmed down – like the noise dropped away while my hands kept moving. As I got more confident, I bought better hooks, tried new yarns, and eventually wandered into Tunisian crochet too.
When the novelty fades (and the WIPs pile up)
I loved the beginning of a project – the novelty, the new pattern, the feeling of learning something. But after a while, the excitement would fade and I’d put the project down “for a bit”… and then forget it entirely. I’d start something new, feel that same rush, and repeat the cycle.
When I did try to go back, I’d hit a wall. I couldn’t remember what yarn I’d used or what hook size I’d been working with, and I hadn’t kept the labels. And once that happened a few times, the unfinished projects stopped being “in progress” and became a graveyard.
Not metaphorically, either – I had, and still have, multiple bags of half-finished crochet hidden under the back bed or in the loft. Every now and then I’d find one, pull it out with good intentions, and then hit the same problem: I couldn’t remember what hook size I’d used, what yarn it was, or even which pattern I’d been following.
And the worst part? Sometimes I’d guess. I’d grab a hook that looked about right, start working a few rows, and realise the tension was completely different. The fabric didn’t match. The project didn’t match itself. That tiny missing detail – hook size – was enough to make the whole thing feel ruined.
So the guilt crept in. Instead of digging old projects out and sorting the mess, I’d avoid them. Out of sight, out of mind… until I remembered they existed and felt bad all over again.
If any of this sounds familiar, I promise you: you’re not the only one.
ADHD, context, and the missing scaffolding
A few years later, after my ADHD diagnosis, that whole cycle finally made sense. It wasn’t that I didn’t care about my projects. It wasn’t that I lacked discipline, or that I was “bad at finishing things.”
It was that my brain wasn’t reliably holding onto all the little bits of context that make a WIP easy to return to – hook size, yarn, pattern, where I’d put it, what I’d already changed. Those details are basically the scaffolding of a project, and when the scaffolding disappears, restarting feels weirdly impossible.
The turning point: my niece’s blanket
And then I started a blanket for my niece.
You know that feeling at the beginning of a project – fresh yarn, a new pattern, that little hit of excitement? I had all of that… alongside this annoying, quiet certainty that if I didn’t do something differently, this blanket would end up under the bed with the rest. Not because I didn’t want to make it, but because I’d put it down for “just a week,” lose the thread, and never quite find my way back.
So I stopped and thought: what would it take to make coming back easy?
Not “motivational quote” easy. Not “try harder” easy. Practical easy. The kind of easy where I can pick up a project a month later and instantly know what hook I used, what yarn I chose, which pattern I’m following, and where I shoved the bag when I needed to tidy up quickly.
That’s the moment Stitch & Loop started to take shape – as a single place to store the context that my brain kept dropping.
The solution: Stitch & Loop (crochet-only for now)
That’s what I wanted Stitch & Loop to be: a single place where the important project details live, so I don’t have to hold them in my head (or scatter them across three notebooks).
Right now, it’s crochet-only – partly because crochet is where my own chaos lives, and partly because I wanted to build something that does a few key things really well instead of doing everything badly.
The idea is simple: when I start a project, I create it in Stitch & Loop and save the bits of information that decide whether future-me can actually pick it back up:
- Hook size (the one detail that can wreck everything if I forget it)
- Yarn info (what I used, what colourway, what I substituted, anything I’ll need to match later)
- Pattern link (so I’m not hunting through browser tabs or screenshots)
- Where I put it (which bag, which basket, which “safe place” I will absolutely not remember)
- Quick notes (anything I changed, where I left off, what I was thinking)
In other words: it’s not meant to be complicated. It’s meant to make returning to a WIP feel as easy as starting a new one.
What changed when I had one place for everything
Once I had one place for the context, a few things shifted almost immediately.
First: less guilt. If a project is logged and I can see what it needs, it stops feeling like a failure. It’s not “abandoned,” it’s just paused.
Second: easier restarts. I don’t have to reconstruct decisions from memory or guess my way back in. The friction drops, and when the friction drops, I actually return.
And third (the best one): more joy. Crochet goes back to being the quiet, grounding thing it was at the start – instead of an emotional minefield of unfinished bags and “why can’t I just… finish things?”
The projects feel more like they’re waiting for me, rather than accusing me.
You’re not alone (and I’d love your input)
If you’ve got a WIP graveyard too, I promise: you’re not alone. This isn’t a character flaw. It’s a systems problem – especially if you’re juggling ADHD, limited working memory, a busy life, or just the completely normal habit of starting more projects than you finish.
And honestly? I want Stitch & Loop to be shaped by real crafting lives – not some ideal version of productivity.
Tell me your most chaotic WIP story. Where do your projects end up? What’s the one detail you always lose? What would make picking a project back up feel effortless?
And if you want to try a simple system for keeping project details in one place, Stitch & Loop is in beta (crochet-only for now).
Leave a Reply