Nana's Knitting Shop

Knitting tales of a lifelong knitter
and yarn shop owner.

Thursday, April 26, 2007

Is that for me?

Since the now famous St. Mawes sweater for the Prince a.k.a. Steve, a.k.a. Rob, a.k.a my darling, long suffering husband, every time I've cast on, I've heard,

"Oh, honey, that's a new color, a different yarn; it's on different needles; whatcha making? Did you check your gauge? Is it for me? Did you check your gauge?"

Now, I finished the spectacular St. Mawes (flaw and all) at the end of October and I will say that my Prince wears it with pride; and often. He wears it when he wants to impress, he wears it for luck (when he's going to see a client), and he takes very, very good care of it. And, unlike someone who shall always remain nameless, he's never done any kind of work in it!

Darling, despite your momentary lapse of judgement in the heat of technical analysis (which is what you do), you DO deserve something handknittted again! YOU MY FRIEND, HAVE PROVEN YOURSELF WORTHY!

After all, I forgave little Missy and actually knitted her several things this year. Oh, that's right, you don't know about my Cory's betrayal, do you?

Scottie dogs were all the rage and Cory LOVED them. Do you remember being 9 years old and LOVING something? You doodled them on paper, you collected pictures of them and taped them to your wall, you wanted them on your wallet, on little bags, on your socks, etc.

Miss Cory LOVED Scottie dogs and I made her the little vest on the right:

It was a Charmer alright, my first intarsia project and I made it out of an angora blend yarn so it was soft and fuzzy and so Scottie!

She tells me that she loved it, but after a few wearings I found it rolled into a ball on the floor in the corner of her room. Oh, my. It didn't have car oil on it of course, but it had accumulated a fair number of dust bunnies. Dust bunnies on angora Scotties, oh my.

And alas, the Scottie vest ended up in the Goodwill bag along with the bunny and panda Halloween costumes I had made her. I suppose that's what I get for asking an 11 year old to clean out her drawers and not checking what she was giving away.

"I didn't understand the love!" she told me this very day as she tried to convince me not to share her shame with the world.

"I didn't know the work, hell, I didn't even know the word heirloom, keepsake, whatever!"

And I did forgive her; and I'm officially forgiving Steve. Of course, I'm in the middle of making myself another sweater (a real beauty using Rowan Calmer), but I'm starting to contemplate what I'll make for the Prince next. All I know right now is that it will not, absolutely will not be a cardigan.


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