This past week John cleaned out his closet. Not something he does all that often, but every once in a while the mood strikes and he decides it's time to retire certain items of clothing to the farm.
He announced to me that he thought it might be time for this sweater to become a "farm sweater," but what did I think? This was a sufficiently diplomatic stance on his part.
Because this is a sweater with some history: it sealed our marriage contract.
When John and I started dating he wanted me to make him a handknit sweater. The only problem with this was "The Knitter's Curse." It seems women who knit for boyfriends don't make it down the aisle with those particular boyfriends. So the rule is that you wait until the ring is on the finger to pick up the needles. Karen at my LYS L'Atelier confirmed to John that this was, indeed, the case. She'd help me measure him, but I wasn't to start knitting for him until we'd married.
And so I waited. I eventually made John a possum merino sweater with cables. It was very warm and cozy and knitted with love. But it did make him appear a wee bit chubby, wasn't the most flattering style on him. I've since made others that are better fitting.
So no issues from me about relegating this sweater to the farm. It served its time and purpose, and when I think of it, Struan Farm is where it belongs.
Comments
You can follow this conversation by subscribing to the comment feed for this post.