It is a formal indictment of the severity of the Winter weather when I am reduced to wearing my greatest ever knitting travesty.
Look it really was quite snowy, even the Gamekeeper was on foot.
I gather from the Tinker that when I'm as old as him I'll be given money by the government to keep warm and then I'll be able to walk around indoors in a vest and shorts all Winter, but whilst I wait for the years to pass, needs must and I have to resort to this.
The fact that I even have the nerve to get it out of the cupboard should tell you how cold it's been, but then you all know how cold it's been and though to Canadians this is probably sub-tropical, even so please understand and forgive.
It's my Pink Elephant, my worst ever knitting nightmare, the Alafoss Lopi wool jumper. They obviously know a thing or two about warmth in Iceland.
Nice Rowan pattern, tension was fine but as I knitted I knew things were going awry and if I tell you I nigh on needed a block and tackle to get that neck picked up and knitted that should help you visualise the process.
Now years on there's really no accounting for the effects of time and gravity on a jumper that weighs a ton, bobbles and sheds fur faster than three cats and now resembles a pink fluffy knitted frock (which even I couldn't be persuaded to wear unless it was near Arctic, which it was). In fact by the time I'm the Tinker's age (deo volente) and taking into account old lady height shrinkage, there's every chance this will be a lovely Alafoss Lopi ballroom gown.
I have to overcome the gales of derisive laughter but to be honest I've gone beyond the point of caring, it hadn't been that cold in eons, and even though this thing had grown at least a foot since I last looked at it so now it's reaching my knees, it's keeping me as warm as toast.
Meanwhile other knitting has been in progress but I can't share pictures here yet because it's the hot-water bottle cover that I offered to knit in very part-exchange for this most memorable and much-loved gift.
Hot water bottle covers to Canada feels like Canada sending pasties to Cornwall, but Canada put out the plea and I responded. After a protracted search I found the most perfect wool and managed to get the design out of my head and onto the needles and to fruition with minimal frogging.
This free-range knitting is quite a new departure for me so bless Bookhound, I was working it all out loud to myself on the drive home from the woolshop in Honiton; he'd possibly glazed over by Okehampton,
'You see if I cast on enough stitches and knit one big piece...'
'Perhaps I should do it on circular needles...'
'I wonder if Canadian hot water bottles are bigger than English ones...'
'What do you think if I cast off half the stitches and carried on knitting the other half, would that make an envelope flap?'
'Would that look right?'
'Oh I've got a good idea, I could pick up and knit a sort of neck thing...'
'Got to think how to get the hot water bottle in and out though...'
Then Offspringette came over halfway through and there was further consulation and debate, it's been a right old family affair until yesterday when we finally sent it on its way and Hilary at the village post office (closing later this year...'what will you do Hilary' I asked...'I'll get a life' she answered quick as a flash) looked up Canada - air mail and we did dispatch.
Anyway, it has been a joy to knit and now it's on its way to Calgary and we can but hope that Mrs KevinfromCanada's feet enjoy it.
Back to the baby llama wool jumper and I'm keeping a very tight rein on that lest it get Icelandic notions.
Do you have any knitting travesties to share?
I'd feel comforted to know it wasn't just me.
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