My Mumini just dropped off a knitter’s inheritance. I know I’m not the first knitter to be
the victim of subject to this phenomenon. Someone, somewhere, casts on a project and doesn’t finish it. They run out of steam, maybe their life changes, maybe they realise knitting’s not for them (it’s not for everyone, I accept that). They leap to their feet, needles clattering to the ground, and cry “What am I doing? I should be a husky-harness-weaver!”. Then, sometime later, presumably as their husky-harness-weaving business takes off and they need the cupboard space back, they decide to part company with the knitting project: seems a shame to just chuck it out, so they either pass it on to charity, a knitter, or someone who knows a knitter, or someone who thinks they might like to try knitting…there must be millions of projects that move around the world this way.
My Mumini upended the bag she had been given my my Nanini — and there, the scent goes cold. I know not whence my Nanini obtained this project, but I can say with some degree of certainty that it was not she who cast it on. She is not so ambitious a knitter as to commit to a full sweater, and besides, she’s wrist-deep in squares for her knitted quilt-in-progress. So it trickled along family lines until it reached my table. We looked closely at it. “I’m not sure what it is.” Through some fairly simple analysis — the completed piece is obviously a sleeve, plus the pattern book has been open at this page for so long it won’t shut anymore — we deduced it was a woman’s jumper. I could go into further investigation and work out what size it was, but this bundle of neat and orderly stitches is headed to the frog pond so fast it’ll make you dizzy.
The yarn is fresh and in excellent condition: it feels like a machine-washable crepe, and there was a fat pile of Bendigo Woollen Mills shade cards in the bag dating back to 2007, so I suspect it’s their Classic. I was moderately excited to squeeze the untouched skeins, but the colour…hm. I don’t think there are bad colours. But I think there are colours I don’t particularly want to wear, no matter how lush, thick and unused the yarn is. There are, in fact, colours I think very very very few people should wear, or see, or even think about with any intensity. Colours best left to nature or the go-faster stripes on rollerblades.
So, two options: unravel, wash, reskein and pass on to someone more appreciative (they’re out there, I know it); or have a bash at another Great Dyeing Adventure and see if I can turn this burrito into a taco?
This is the pattern book that came with it: it’s clearly from Paton’s “There’s Something More Interesting Over There!” line.