First there was the yarn. A yarn that called out to me one fine afternoon at the yarn shop. “Buy me” it said. It also said a few other things – things about the ocean, the waves, the surf. It told me it wanted to be something special. So I bought it.
Then there was the pattern. “Knit me” it said. It spoke to me of the ocean, the waves, the surf. It told me it was the perfect pattern for the yarn. It charmed me with promises of the perfect project – simple, quick and right in every way.
So I started knitting the pattern. I wanted it to be more than just a scarf, so I made it wide. It looked lovely – like everything I had dreamed of. It looked wavy and frothy and like the ocean.
I got a large section of it knit. But something wasn’t feeling quite right. I couldn’t put my finger on it at first, but eventually it started to become clear. I was running out of yarn. I weighed what was left in the ball, and the yarn was half gone. I measured what I’d knit so far, and it was about 35 cm long. The most drastic blocking in the universe wasn’t going to turn this into a wrap. So I ripped the whole thing out.
On the second try, I cast on fewer stitches. I also used larger needles. This time I breezed through the entire ball of yarn in just a couple of weeks. This, for me, is fast knitting. It was looking pretty good. I was happy. I cast off, wove in the ends, and laid the wrap out on the floor to take a picture of it. And then I noticed it – the big “oops.” About half-way along I’d missed a row. Suddenly the right side of the wrap had become the wrong side. Half of the wrap faced the wrong way around.
No longer was my yarn whispering to me. No longer was the pattern wooing me. They’d somehow joined together and conspired to mock me. What had I done to incite their wrath? I still don’t know.
Well, what else could I do? I unwove the yarn end, and ripped back to the row where I’d made the mistake. I rewound that half of the yarn onto my swift, and then back into a ball. And I started knitting once again.
This time I finished without mistakes. The wrap that didn’t want to be knit was knit – and every inch of that lovely yarn had been knit not once, but twice.
It finished at a respectable 89 cm (35 inches) long by 25 cm (10 inches) wide before blocking, and 120 cm (47 inches) long by 25 cm (10 inches) wide after blocking.
It’s quite large enough to wear as a wrap. And it also works as a scarf.
And overall, I do still think that it is a proper marriage of yarn and pattern, which still whispers to me of the waves and the surf (at least it does when it’s in the mood).
Yarn: Fleece Artist Sea Wool, a blend of 70% Merino and 30% Seacell, in fingering weight (colour name unknown) 1 skein.
Needles: 4.0 mm
Worked (the second time) at 46 stitches wide, and 25.5 repeats long.
Worked (the first time, for anyone wondering) at 76 stitches wide, on 3.5 mm needles.