When I was a middle school student, my great aunt Thelma taught me to crochet. This was in the days when yarn didn’t come in easy-to-pull-out skeins. Back in the day, when I was visiting her, she would have me hold my two hands out about two feet apart. Then she would patiently roll the yarn into a ball.
Fast forward fifty years, and I did it again this morning. Only this time, my knees were the helper.