knitting madness

For the last six years, I have been knitting a sweater for Burton. For the non-knitters in the audience, I should say that sweaters are no small deal. They are big. Huge, even. They have hems and sleeves and seams. And, unlike scarves, they need to fit in a very specific way. Which is a lot to ask.

Adding insult to injury, Burton wanted cables (but let's not blame him: he didn't know any better). So a cabled sweater it would be. Only, as the project got underway, I developed a severe and unabiding loathing for cables. Nevertheless, I cabled and cabled and cabled, hating it more and more with each twisted stitch. Until I hated it so much that I threw it down in disgust and forgot about it for five years. And by "forgot," I mean that I pretended to have better things to do, but really it cried out to me from the darker nether regions of the hall closet: "Can't you face me, you cable coward?" It taunted me. It took advantage of my weaknesses. The sweater-that-was-not prevented me from holding down jobs. I developed a rash. It got in the way of my relationships.

So. Sometime last year, on a day when there was probably something even worse I should have been doing (like filing taxes or meeting a writing deadline), I dusted off the plastic bag and looked inside. About eight inches of the front panel of the sweater stared back up at me, begging to be put out of its misery. "Please, just let me go with dignity," it sobbed. "I don't want to live anymore."

I am a woman of compassion. And I believe in new beginnings. So I pulled the work off the needle and, slowly at first, tugged at the end of the yarn, watching each stitch work itself loose. Then I let 'er rip. Outside, a flock of doves took flight into a beam of morning light, while a harp struck a major chord. Ok, fine, that didn't happen, but you weren't there, how can you argue? Anyway, it felt fucking awesome.

And I started over. With a new pattern and new resolve. And this week, after overcoming my fear of sewing in a zipper, I finished! The sweater made its first public appearance last night: Burton wore it to visit some friends, who said upon his entrance, "That's a great sweater!"

At least that's what Burton told me. I wasn't actually there. But I choose to believe him.

So, in this moment of giddy excitement, I'm beginning my third sweater. (We don't speak about the first one.) And I am resolved to finish it within The Month. The month beginning on the first day of the next full month. Or something. Oh, internet, I am going to regret this. You'll see. But new beginnings, right?