I decided to have a lo-fi weekend after last week’s mental lapses. Yes, that’s plural—I forgot another meeting on Friday. Clearly the Spirit is throwing the red flag, sounding the alarms, ah-OOga! ah-OOga! This reverend-mother is on overload! So I took the weekend off from Facebook and the computer in general. I love you guys, but it was excellent. I feel much more grounded today.
One of the things I did was work on the shawl. I’ve been working on this thing for years, no exaggeration, but I’m almost done—I’ve gotta bind off and do some ribbing around the neck. It’s been something of a disaster, actually. It’s a lace pattern, which was a new thing for me anyway, but I found out early on that the pattern in the book was wrong. I got a corrected pattern off the internet, but now it drapes much shorter than it’s supposed to. (Some correction!)
I also made some mistakes along the way which are pretty obvious. I realized it at the time, but I couldn’t figure out how to unknit psso’s and k2togs. And let me remind you knitters out there—check the dye lot. It’s not hugely obvious, but…
Robert and I had a laugh over it last night. I tell people that my knitting is in the same spiritual vein as the Persian rug makers who always put in a mistake because only God is perfect. Except that they do it on purpose.
Oh well. A recovering perfectionist, one of my intentions this month is “make a mistake” and this shawl is replete with them.
But it will turn out fine, and I will wear it with gladness, because of all the history that’s in it. I’ll wear it and recall the fabulous, witty woman from my previous church who took me to the cozy knitting store and encouraged me to buy this rich blue yarn. And I’ll remember my clergy systems group, and The Well, and my fellow writers in Collegeville. I attended each of these gatherings with this monstrosity on my lap, knitting away while we talked and kvetched; I occasionally had to stop mid-row to wipe tears of laughter from my eyes. And I’ll remember many, many, many hours of watching LOST with Robert. Those memories are all knitted up in it: Linda G. and self-differentiation and “WTF” awards and the book of Isaiah and favorite novels and “not Penny’s boat.”
That’s life, eh?
That is life.
Image: Someone else’s version of the shawl I’m knitting. I wonder what memories are tangled up in hers.