If you are knitting Jeanie, and you get to the end of a row, and you are crossing the last 4 x 4 cable without a needle, and 911 rings while you’re doing it, and you have to drop it in your lap, the four tiny sock-yarn stitches waving in the simulated breeze, it is a good thing if you then pick them up and cross the cable, just like that.
Sometimes knitting is good like that. Probably means that I’m about to run out of yarn or something. I should check.
In other related knitting news, I just stole a sweater right off a guy. A radio technician was wearing an amazing old Norwegian style sweater, looks at least forty years old, maybe more. Light brown with darker brown and cream patterning, pewter buttons. I’ll take a picture when I’m at home, but something about the bottom pattern reminds me of Elizabeth Zimmerman. You fanatics can help me pin its exact derivation later. I’ve seen this guy wearing it before — apparently his coworkers give him shit about wearing the sweater, but he’s kind of a tall Mr. Rogers kind of guy, very sweet, and carries it off gracefully. Jimmy Stewart-ish, really. I’ve only ever spoken to him a little bit before — couldn’t remember his name (it’s Don), and he didn’t know my name even though we’ve discussed brining turkey in the past.
He was working on a co-worker’s radio console, and I said, "I love your sweater." I kept myself away. It was hard. I would not touch.
He said "Thanks, it was my dad’s."
That’s all it took. I had my hands all over him, because people, the holes! The HOLES! Oh, some moth has fed generations with that sweater. I had it off him in less than forty-five seconds with the promise of repair. He looked a little stunned, but happy and grateful.
The sweetest bit of the sweater is an old hole that’s been darned with a different color yarn — someone really cared for this thing. It deserves some more years. I never offer to do this, and I can’t say how good I’ll be at doing it. I *love* to darn, but it’s not always a successful endeavor. I’d like this to be, though.
I’ll keep you posted.
Oh, and hey! I’m out of town this weekend for a good friend’s wedding, and I’m so excited! I won’t be around the blog parts because I’ll be partying like it’s 1993. No, really. I will be.
Sharlene says
Oh, what a sweet story! ๐ A true knitter’s good deed. And how could you resist knowing it was being worn by the second generation…
jane says
That is the thing I love about your posts-the total reality of the knitting situation. For those of us who have similar(although not 911) moments, such as the dog deciding to wind itself through the yarn in the quest for your lap,it is reassuring. I am on the sleeves of the Blue Sky Alpacas Cropped Cardigan and it is dpn city. I will ward off all interlopers.
Good luck with the fabulous old sweater-an opportunity to help and to learn. What could be better?
Have a great time at the wedding. Hope to see you around at Stitches this year-
Sharon J says
That is completely sweet.
Did you get the article?
Brandy says
Oh my–does this mean you’ll be in Oklahoma City this weekend? I’m from Shawnee, east of OKC. I too am in love with Venice (I recommended Taverna San Trovaso to you and Lala once). And I too happen to be of the lesbian variety.
Dude. Think the universe would collapse on itself if we met in person?
Hope you have fun at the wedding and can’t wait to see pictures of the heirloom sweater.
Johnk says
I am soooo jealous. I need to see photos. The norwegian sweaters are my current obsession. Oh, right …. and in answer to a comment mant days ago. Yes, you were my first.
deborah says
I LOVE that you are going to fix Don’s sweater! That will mean a lot to him – and he’ll never forget you. Bless you.
Dani in NC says
Oh, I can’t wait to hear more about the sweater rescue project! Don’t forget to share pictures. I’ve attempted small-scale repairs in the past, but I’d like to see how a more experienced knitter does it.