Over winter break, Mendon and I did a whirlwind tour visiting my family. While sitting with my father and discussing the enthusiam that Grandmother B- showed for my knitting, how she had cast on a new project (at 93 years old!), and how she'd dumped her yarn stash into a bag for me to take away. Dad, pleased to hear these things, disappeared briefly and brought back this:
This is a sweater that I've seen before. It was from Dad's early years. (ie. it was knit for him when he was scrawny). We laughed at this, he tried it on. We found out that it was knit to be baggy, and that it's age wouldn't show if it could have just another inch or two in length in the body. This, I was certain, couldn't be that hard. I figure that I can just undo the bottom row, let the stitches fall up (EASY, right?), reknit the ribbing straight, and then add ribbing onto that with a different yarn, that SURELY, I could match. After all, it's just a blue sweater.
One of the issues with being a new knitter, evidentially, is the experience of learning your BOUNDARIES, girl.
From there, I found out that stitches, when ribbed, do not casually undo themselves from the bottom up. Nope. So, I had to unravel a row of stitches above the ribbing by hand, undo the kntting, reattach, reknit. I couldn't find a yarn to match (duh!), only one that is close. So, in the past few days, I've spent a lot of time (read: only about 30 minutes, because that's all I have) staring at the sweater.
And then a solution came for me:
The collar was doubled over, and there was my extra yarn for the taking (after I loosened it and took it apart, that is). To work I went.
Half-way through my work, I stumbled upon this little surprise that is something I really enjoy about my Grandmother:
The woman must love tags in her knitting. Really. I remember when I was a kid, she sent Drew and me handknit sweaters that had matching tags (mine was white, his was blue). They read, "From the Hands of Mabel B-" or something like that. They were fantastic and embroidered with (I think) teddy bears. Mendon comment on her tagging inclinations: "Well, yeah, she had FOUR boys!" Plus, we know that Uncle Spurgeon had a matching sweater (the most coveted original), so distinguishing between these two was probably a good thing to do.
Regardless, I wonder about this funny little tag. Why was it covered? Did folding the neck over bug my father? Did the collar irritate his neck (cause I sure don't enjoy turtlenecks)? Who covered it? When - it obviously wasn't right after the sweater was made- the wool that secured the collar into the inside was a different color. Was Dad secretly, adolescently annoyed with his mother's tagging habits? :) I am, yes, quite amused with this hidden finding.
At any rate, the collar is only one layer now, a crew neck, and I've found my matching (!!!) wool to with which to extend this sweater to a functional length. How lovely.
Wow, you are ambitious like your grandmother!
I am impressed with your due diligence to make this sweater functional for your Dad.
Look forward to seeing you soon.
Sounds more like you're outward bound than having found a boundary! Let me know when you find a boundary ;-)
It seems that every project I see that you're working on/have worked on is more amazing than the last. And the meaning behind the current one undoubtedly makes this even more special! From what I can see in the online pics, it is BEAUTIFUL!
I am terribly disfunctional at responding, but have to contribute - this was a wonderful thing Kristen did. It united efforts of my mother, her mother, Stephanie, and Kristen. My mother knitted many sweaters for me and my brothers as we grew up. As we get older, we see the beauty and effort of this. Linda recognized this and adjusted the collar rather than passing the sweater along to Goodwill. I could not part with this sweater - and Stephanie helped Kristen to learn the skills of how to preserve it! It fits - it's tighter, but I would choose this sweater on a sub-zero day - without a jacket. I hope to keep it within the family, much like my father's suede jacket he bought from Sears Roebuck in 1941.
Thank you Kristen :) Much love - dad