Really?
That pretty much sums it up.
I can't say it was an indulgence, the price was very reasonable all things considered. 185 yards hand spun, hand dyed wool. Color by my definition, amazing. Deep, tonal shades of plum. More Aran, than the worsted it's purported to be, bonus it'll knit up faster. What I didn't count on, was the smell. Vinegar, I'm sure used to set the dye. Vinegar that I know will come out with the first blocking, but vinegar nevertheless. A nice quick knit, just trying to plug away so I can plunge it all head long into a nice long soak, until I see it. Two cables down it stares at me, twisting grotesquely to the left where it should be flowing gracefully to the right. Really? If I rip it out, I may never pick it up again. If I keep going will it just stare unrelenting at me? I can't gift it, because I know it's there. Mocking me. Am I foolish enough to believe this will be the last mistake? Not really. Procrastinating the inevitable. I really should start vests for the boys. I think the rain stopped, garden won't plant itself! Suck it up girl. Infinitely more beauty found in doing it the hard way.
Shannon, your post brought these things to mind. Ironic how knitting is like life - we travel trudging our way through life and along the way things unknowingly intertwine themselves into our lives - things that over time may begin to reak. We trace back and find where we took the wrong road and have a choice, we can ignore it, or we can change it. The great thing about the threads of our lives, we have One who can cleanse them all and allow us to start all over again.
ReplyDeleteit's easy to recognize when we need to forgive the mistakes of others, it's not so easy to recognize or deal with it when we are the ones making the mistakes. It must be made right to be able to move forward, or it just stares you in the face.
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