Knitting philosophically

When you fall asleep before 9, an early wake-up is almost a certainty. After eight hours of running reports and sorting Excel files yesterday, my eyeballs gave out pretty early, so it was not too surprising that I was wide awake by 4:30 this morning. Not wanting to embark on anything noisy or logistically taxing, I warmed a cup of yesterday's coffee and grabbed some knitting. If you don't knit, you should. It is truly one of the most relaxing and productive activities ever invented by man, woman or god.

I learned to knit when I was about 10. Jane and I went to the yarn shop on High Street and learned to knit slippers. Mine were lavender. Two completely different sizes and shapes, but both lavender. I knitted only occasionally between that time and approximately five years ago when I discovered the relaxing advantages and tactile satisfaction of two sticks and some great string. Since that time, I've had something on the needles almost constantly.

My current project is a scarf for my nephew Kevin. It's not a Christmas gift or to mark any momentous occasion, it's just a scarf because I told Kevin I'd make him a scarf. I am trying to duplicate a handsome vertical-striped scarf I saw in a pattern book while in Depth of Field, the great Minneapolis yarn shop. I didn't buy the book, but did make mental note of the instructions to cast on 199 stitches. I can and did do that. The problem with that many stitches on the needle is that it is impossible to judge the true size of the project. I can estimate how long this scarf will be, but 199 stitches gather tightly enough on my needle (24-inch) to create a ruffled look, (no, Kev, I am not making you a ruffled scarf) so I can only estimate the finished product. In other words, even though I can calculate the gauge of my knitting and the size of the finished project, it's still a bit of a mystery as to how the finished scarf will really look simply because I am knitting it sideways to achieve the vertical stripes. It makes me a little nervous. What if it's shorter than expected? After risking raised eyebrows and questions from Macy's sales staff while examining and measuring the men's scarves while my friend Karen was checking out her purchase, I want this to be right. (Although I do have a tape measure in my purse at all times, I thought it more subtle to do the nose to fingertip measuring technique in Macy's. Pulling out the tape measure implies blatant copying; holding a scarf, or any item for that matter, up to your nose and extending it the length of your arm to your fingertip to approximate one yard appears perfectly routine, I'm sure.) I'm using great yarn. Kevin will reap the benefits of leftover black cashmere from Alyssa's hat, gray tweed from a pair of mittens (I think) and red wool from Alyssa's cabled scarf. Still with all the planning and quality ingredients, I won't really know how it turned out until it's completely finished and off the needles.

That's life isn't it? Call casting on 199 stitches an act of faith (or a crap shoot); high quality yarn (even if it is all leftovers), even stitches and the perseverance to keep knitting simply build on that faith (or another roll of the dice) without any certainty of outcome. Yes, I think it looks good now and I think it will be something Kevin likes, but there are no guarantees. And, of course, if it's too short for a scarf, we'll call it a muffler and move on. I can only hope he likes it (and not because this will guilt him into it) and that it helps to keep him warm all winter. And so I keep knitting. And we all keep doing whatever it is that helps us get through each day. And we all hope for the best as we wait for the outcome. It is what knitting and life are all about.