All the Time in the World

Almost ten years ago I decided, having taken up knitting a full year before, to whip up a sweater. No offense, but I feel like almost anyone can learn to knit a scarf. Hats are a bit more up there, and turning the heel of a sock borders on brilliant. Especially if you design your own pattern. Then there's the sweater, the Super Bowl of all knitting, so of course, with one year of experience under my belt, I decided I was ready.

I seriously did that.

I'm rarely accused of lacking enthusiasm for most undertakings, unless it involves hiking outdoors where carrying bear spray is encouraged.

Christmas was approaching. I asked my sweet husband for a gift card to the local knit shop, showed the owner the pattern I was attempting to knit, and proceeded to spend my entire gift card plus a hunk of my allowance on many, many, many skeins of cotton yarn in coral. I won't state the total here but it did have three digits ahead of the decimal point.

After thirteen starts and tear outs of this cabled, way-too-difficult sweater, I put all the yarn into a bin in my closet and decided to just pretend it wasn't there. La La La, fingers in ears. I didn't spend all that money on all that yarn that is sitting in a bin rotting away to never turn into anything that will remotely resemble a garment.

Fast forward ten years and I kept remembering the yarn. The money. The poorly laid plans. So I put knitting a sweater on my 'bucket list', and started looking for a pattern that I was capable of turning out. The one from ten years before was STILL too difficult for me. I follow a blog by Leslie Friend, A Friend to Knit With (how cute is that?!) and she has a cardigan on her sidebar that she recommends as 'the perfect first sweater to knit.' Just what I needed. A project with a high chance of success.

This past spring I dragged out all my gazillion dollars worth of yarn, and started in. I took a break, partway through, to knit up some baby booties, because sometimes you just need to do that, and babies don't wait. Then back to the cardigan.

I stopped at two knitting shoppes between here and Texas for help understanding the pattern, (how on earth does one knit with two separate balls of yarn at the same time?!?) When I asked the shop owner for help, she sent me outdoors, to Jay, their expert knitter. On the patio sat a man, late twenties, his head was bent over a lace shawl he held in his lap. As the fine yarn flew back and forth across his hands, I ventured to ask who had taught him to knit. He answered his elderly grandmother. How long ago? Three years. Expert in three years - that's amazing.

Finally, finally this fall, after six months of knitting and a good dose of help from Jay, I FINISHED. (Do you hear the drumroll in the background?)

My peachy coral cardigan is not perfect. It's not even close. I didn't do a great job of the seaming, which apparently makes or breaks a knitting project, but it fits. Pretty much. I should have stopped to think that I'm almost 5'10" and it would have benefited me to make it a good three inches longer, but it's still become, just like Leslie promised, my 'go to' cardigan. It waits on the living room chair, for me to grab it first thing in the morning. It's perfect over pajamas with an early morning cup of coffee, or for an afternoon walk with Lily, or an evening glass of wine on the deck with my husband.

Or for curling up with a granddaughter who is learning to read. Who is willing to snuggle up to me and sit still as long as I'm willing to keep turning pages.

Being able to check off my list, as having knit a sweater doesn't really matter diddle. What does matter is being able to grab this cardigan that was just a pile of guilt and throw it on, then snuggle up next to my daughter's daughter, where we while away the time reading a picture book. My one thought in this moment is convincing her I have all the time in the world. I know that's not the truth. Thirty-six years ago her mother, my daughter, curled up next to me; soon she too, will be too old to do so. But just for today, for this moment, we sit and read. That's a perfect dose of grace abounding if I ever saw one.

Note: The Slouchy Cardigan pattern is referenced on Leslie's sidebar;

it's from the book Greetings From Knit Cafe, by Suzan Mischer, available on Amazon. Be sure to get the newer edition as the first one has a lot of errata to take note of, difficult and annoying when one is following a knitting pattern that is just a bit ahead of one's skill level. To see other versions of this cardigan and note comments from others who knit this pattern go to Ravelry.com.