Accountant by Day. Crochet Designer by Night. Professional Chicken Tender Always.

Hi, I’m Sarah.

I’m an accountant by trade, a crochet artist by obsession, and a professional chicken tender by necessity.
By day, I handle the numbers. I’m good at it, and I love setting up systems that work, but it’s a career I chose because it made sense on paper—not necessarily because it made my heart happy. And if there’s one thing you should know about me, it’s that I don’t do well with “just because it makes sense.”

My path to getting here has been anything but a straight line.

The Road Less Traveled

Right after high school, I went to college for accounting, took one look at a spreadsheet course, and immediately thought, absolutely not. I left school, started working full-time, and spent the next several years bouncing between jobs—a bank, a warehouse (which I actually loved), and even a brief stint as a licensed massage therapist.
Eventually, I spent eight years working at my parents’ restaurant doing a little bit of everything: bartending, serving, bookkeeping, and surviving the rush. It was chaotic, exhausting, and honestly, kind of perfect for me at the time.

When my kids were small, working those crazy restaurant nights and weekends let my husband and me tag-team childcare. But as they grew up, I wanted to actually see their lives happen in real-time. So, I made the “practical” decision again: I went back to school, got my degree in accounting, and started working remotely.
It was stable. Flexible. Responsible.

And still… my creative brain was screaming for an escape hatch.

Finding the Hook

Around the same time I went back to accounting, I found the thing I actually loved.

It started years ago when I tried teaching myself to knit via YouTube. I spent more time frustrated than relaxed. I would get halfway through a project, spot a mistake, and have absolutely no clue how to go back and fix it. Every time a needle slipped off the loops, full-on needle rage would set in. I’d get so pissed off trying to get the yarn looped back on without twisting the stitches, and half the time, I’d just end up messing up the entire project. So, I switched to crochet.

That changed everything.

In crochet, mistakes aren’t disasters. You just undo a few stitches, pick your hook back up, and keep going. It felt forgiving. Creative. Fun. While I’ve crocheted on and off for nearly two decades, over the last couple of years, it became a daily necessity. I went from scarves and hats to plushies, hacky sacks, and finally, wearables.

Then, about six months ago, I went rogue. I stopped following patterns and made my very first freehand wearable—a tank top (the green one I am wearing in the image) that was originally supposed to be a cowl. It turned into something completely different, and I loved it. (I still have it tucked in a drawer because I finished it in the dead of winter and keep forgetting to wear it now that it’s actually warm out!)

But that feeling of looking at something I created out of thin air and thinking, “Wow, I made that,” hooked me completely.

Welcome to the Zoo (and the Flock)

When I’m not crocheting or managing spreadsheets, my life in New Hampshire is beautifully chaotic. I live with my husband Justin, our two teenagers, our three dogs (Annabelle, Callie, and Lucy), three indoor birds (two cockatiels and a green cheek conure), and a flock of 32 chickens who act like they pay the mortgage.
We got chickens during COVID when a coworker offered us a free coop. We started with six baby chicks. Like most of my “simple ideas,” it quickly escalated into a full-blown lifestyle.

A few members of the ruling class include:

Alexis: Named after Schitt’s Creek. She is sweet, clingy, and fully believes she is a lap chicken. She gets violently jealous if I pet anyone else.
Pip-Squeak: Our white leghorn chaos gremlin. She has zero fear, maximum energy, and considers doors to be optional suggestions.
Our Polish Hen: Features a giant, fluffy head of feathers. She charges around trying to intimidate everyone, despite the fact that she can probably only see about 40% of what’s in front of her.

My husband Justin is supportive in his own, eye-rolling way. He builds the coops, fixes the things I break, and braces himself whenever I announce my next “simple little project” that inevitably turns into a major construction build.

Why Yarn & Yardbirds?

I’m a little stubborn, highly competitive (I will turn literally anything into a challenge), naturally goofy, and I have zero tolerance for rude people. Life is way too short for bad attitudes.

Yarn & Yardbirds is my way of finally building something that feels 100% like me.

It’s not polished. It’s not perfectly planned. It is a real-time creative experiment—part crochet studio, part design journal, part chicken updates, and total chaos. This is where I’m learning to design my own patterns, document the messy creative process, and finally follow the advice I’ve always given my kids: Follow what you love.

The ultimate goal? In a few years, I want this to be my full-time gig. I want to design patterns, create tutorials, and live a life I chose on purpose, rather than one I just fell into because it “made sense.”

If you are looking for filtered, curated, rigid perfection… you are definitely in the wrong place.

But if you’re here for honest creativity, loud laughter, accidental masterpieces, proud mistakes, and occasional chicken interruptions…

Welcome to the flock!