A Tale of Two Finished Objects

I.

Impressionists Shawl by Helen Stewart. A fun knit to dissuade me from biting nails during time of great transition: Sending my only child off to college and moving from the house I’ve lived in 14 years within the same month. Someone asked me why I continue to knit shawls when so few folks wear them. Answer: They give me a sense of accomplishment because I can finish a shawl faster than a garment, they make a simple shaped canvas in which to play, and more to my point are about a fifth to a sixth the cost of a sweater in yarn volume.

I did find blue-faced leicester whose texture I love to work with for nearly the cost of a shawl though, and will begin a winter rainy day project the Oban sweater or Oban cardigan but think of it as a no pressure slooooow make in the field of mindfully made items.

BFL Sheep

II.

A gift from my past to my future. During process of sorting through all belongings and packing to move, I uncovered this in a long line of nearly finished sweaters I thought I had dealt with by either unraveling or finishing. Usually they are missing only one sleeve or seams. It became such a consistent habit of mine, I stopped making sweaters. I have no idea what the pattern for this was, but I know I made it likely over 30 years ago. The condition it was resting in all these years was complete except for a 6-inch seam on a sleeve. Almost unbelievable I hid it away.

The sweater fits me well now, is super soft, and perfect for whenever fall arrives. I imagine I set it aside because of my severe tendency toward perfectionism in my 20s with the noticeable blip in the lace edging. I can hardly believe how even the stockinette is, looks machine made, but no, just two hands, two sticks and some yarn. Now I happily embrace the imperfection and, in the tradition of many design concepts of the world’s cultures I’m going to say this was intentional imperfection. Yes, I meant to do that.

If I could build a yarn store inside my mind, it would be this. I was thrilled to drop in and chat with the lovely people at the Starlight Knitting Society in Portland this week. I crammed so much into 48 hours of following my bliss away from work for the first time in four years, that I imagine a part of me is still there soaking in all the vegan eateries, hiking all the parks, hugging all the trees, and dreaming of a yarn library such as this beautiful space. I did walk away with something from the sale bin which I will share when I create a piece with it, and a free but priceless badge of courage.

Although I fit the millionaire to millennials meme in not ever being able to afford to buy a house in my lifetime, I eat avocado toast or restaurant food for that matter only 3-4 times per year. So housing and luxury eating in my life appear not to be correlated. Plus, this was a transcendent moment of peppery, lemony, plant fat goodness I wouldn’t trade for a house.

PS. The lace yarn in this photo is normally the price of a house, but I got it at an annual half-off sale. I knit in the lap of luxury but always for reduced prices.