I would like to welcome you all to this evening’s meeting of the Unloved Knits group, and I would like to introduce our newest member, Whendidibecomeaknitter’s Roam Cardigan.
(Roam steps sheepishly up to the podium to wool muffled applause.)
“My name is Roam, and I really hope that one day when I grow up I will be a lovely warm cardigan that my knitter will wear with pride. I hope that I will keep the cold drafts away from her and make her feel cozy at the end of a long day. I want to be her go – to cardi, you know, the sweater she grabs without a second thought on her way out the door in the morning because I fit so well and I look so good.”
(Other partially knitted garments bob in agreement.)
“But, here’s the problem. It’s not that my knitter doesn’t love me, it’s that she’s scared of me. She tried really hard and bought a yarn that she knew she would love and thought that would help. But then the horrible memories of the nasty Noro sweater she made for herself crept back into her thoughts and she was terrified that I would take her down that same road of hard work and anticipation, only for her to be left sobbing into my wool before banishing me to the back of the closet but unfortunately not out of her mind. I have tried to point out that my knitter has successfully knit four other sweaters that fit the recipients and that are all worn with love and pride. She is still convinced that in the end, I will not work out for her.”
(Another knitter’s sweater in the audience purses her stitches together and sadly sways back and forth in resignation.)
“But, I have been taking steps to help my knitter. I started by getting gauge. I was worried I wouldn’t be able to do it, because we all know how tricky it is. But I pulled it off! This made her happy and she rewarded me with more time in her hands and less time in the basket. I have also been sneaking into her bed with her on cold nights and snuggling up to her to show her just how much I love her and how well I will keep her warm when I am finished.”
“I haven’t figured out what I will do to help her overcome her dread of joining my sleeves, but I will cross that bridge when I get to it. My hope for now is that I can stay here with you and get ideas to help support and love my knitter through this trying and challenging time.”
(Roam goes back to its seat getting my loving pats along the way. A nearly triangular afghan starts asking quiet questions about gauge.)
Thank you for your story Roam, and know that you are welcome here as often as you need to be. And I wish both you and your knitter luck with the path you have chosen to go down. And now I turn the floor over to Out of My Knitter’s Comfort Zone sock, whom I see this week has brought most of a twin sister along!