In which I become Silvia

Okay, this is going to be a really odd post about that whole knitting telepathy thing that Meg firmly believes in.

Since the holidays are happily over, I’m jumping back on the me train, and have gleefully commenced with my own knitting plans. (It’s strange though, everything that I’d had immediate plans for is locked up at Kent. I just have the core stash here.) What that means is that I’m picking up my own V-neck, set-in-sleeve sweater. I finished it a while back at Kent, and I’ve been procrastinating on working on it ever since. Mostly because I have to do that thing where you snip a stitch and unravel it all the way around. So, you know, I wasn’t about to get right on that.

But let me start this story from the beginning. A while back Silvia was knitting a V-neck, seamless set-in-sleeve sweater. I encouraged her, as I always do, and I felt the bitter pangs when she had to rip back because she didn’t have enough yarn. Not because she didn’t order enough, but because she had lost a ball of yarn. I left her sympathetic comments, and more of them after she found the ball of yarn. (Post rip of course.) But I also thought “Who the hell looses a ball of yarn?” Oh, how easy it is.

Fast forward a few months and yours truly celebrates a birthday. In the spirit of kindness the same Silvia sent me a really lovely and thoughtful present. Yarn. I ordered up some beautiful wool from Knit-picks, in the same blue/grey that causes my eyes to appear to be different colors. (I like to appear mysterious, even though I don’t have a mysterious bone in my body. I am the openest of open books.) I order 11 balls so I’ll have plenty. It comes in two days (love me some Knit-picks) and I camp on it, waiting for the right project. (And I need to tell you this because it becomes important to the story later, I had one bag with 10 balls in it, and one bag with a single ball in it. I didn’t think that this would  be that important.)

In the meantime, I go to college! I originally packed up all my yarn into a Rubbermaid tote, but then I looked at it and thought. “I’m doing that thing where knitters overestimate how much they’re going to knit, and do I really need this much, and aren’t I being a tab obsessive and weird and shouldn’t I just think about how much I really am going to knit.” So I went through the tote and weeded a few things out and ended up with it all in a tote bag. A large tote bag, I won’t lie to you, but still in a single tote bag.

I go to college and I start the sweater. I thought that it would be fitting if I were to knit the yarn that my friend bought me into the pattern that they didn’t knit. With that, I start knitting the Birthday yarn into the seamless, V-neck set-in-sleeve sweater. (I think this thing needs a better name.) I knit the whole thing, but have to cut the body short because I felt that I was running out of yarn. I finished with about half a ball extra.  But it was too short for me to wear comfortably, so I put it aside. My original plan was to (eventually) take out the collar, cuffs, and the border, add those to the bottom to hopefully give me enough length, and then re-knit them in a contrasting color. Thankfully my laziness stopped me from getting right on that.

I go home for break. (So flipping dull I can hardly stand it.)I bring the sweater with me. I start knitting gifts. I went to the Rubbermaid tote that I’d originally set aside for moving looking for some yarn for some hat or something. In it, guess what I found? The extra ball of yarn!! I’d taken the 10 pack with me to Kent, but I’d left the single ball behind! I’m happily knitting it into my sweater at the moment and I think I might actually get enough length out of it to actually wear it.

Moral of the story, don’t knit the seamless, V-neck, set-in-sleeve sweater. I think that the patterns cursed. I would give anything to know if Elizabeth misplace a ball of Wool when she first came up with the design. She probably didn’t, because she’s Elizabeth and she’s all perfect and British.

But I’m also checking the mirror periodically to see if my hair is starting to turn red. It’s showing hints, but that’s just where the dye reflects the light funny. (By the way, becoming a brunette was one of the best choices that I’ve made since going to college. I feel so much more pretty.)



  1. When you become a redheaded flight attendant, call me…

    You know, I never lose anything – I know where my keys are at all times, my car is always where I think it is and my exes pop up with regularity to tell me how they are. How come the only thing I ever lose is my yarn?

    Had you gone to Berkeley instead of Kent you’d be scarily like me though. Perhaps you dodged a bullet? Pics of sweater please, or do I need to send you a camera with FLASH?

    • You know I lose everything. I mean everything. I moved back home for break and I left my wallet on my desk at Kent. As far as the ex’s are concerned I would be thrilled to lose one of them. That’s one of the many disadvantages of being home, they pop up like flies. 

      As far as the Berkley thing is concerned, it may make me more like you than you think. I assume you are  a native of that area. I live 45 minutes from Kent. Both schools are synonymous with the anti-Vietnam movement, and both have a large fashion school. Really, they are the same school, only one is designed to be a wind tunnel.  (Guess which one — not the one you think.) And since I died my hair a month or so ago, in a certain light it does look almost red. 

      Pics in a FLASH. I am feeling a lack of FLASH these days. What with it not being in front of ever other word at home. I have been gifted with a new device, with a rear camera so I won’t have to be in every pic. Can’t say that the quality will improve but you won’t have to see my unshaven face in everyone. 

      Sent from Samsung tablet

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