Part of the motivation for The One is my diminishing wardrobe of knitwear. It's like I woke up one morning and suddenly realised that I didn't have enough jumper-type garments for every day wear. If memory serves me correctly, this happened last autumn too – but since this season quickly passes into winter (especially for a cold soul such as myself) – the panic was short-lived. This year, however, it seems that I could no longer ignore the problem and clearly hand-knitting new transitional garments was deemed the most sensible way forward.
On one level, this solution does hold certain merit. After all, I do have quite a lot of yarn and several patterns to choose from. I also have the skills necessary to knit the things I want to – it's just the small question of time. (Apparently the success of most projects is in the details.... Ahem.)
Now normally, I would go straight to my beloved Rowan for both pattern and yarn. Not only am I guaranteed to find something that I'll love but the finished garment will also serve as work-wear so it's win win. This time though, I thought that I'd try something different: A whole new designer and some non-Rowan yarn. (Don't underestimate what a Big Deal this is for me. It's like going off Cadbury's chocolate.) As is often the way with these things, I stumbled across a lovely pattern in Ysolda Teague’s new book "The Rhinebeck Sweater" and it's Ysolda's own "Pumpkin Ale" that I took a fancy too (if you too are interested, note errata for this pattern). The jacket doesn't look like much from the front but one glimpse of the back and you're in for a real treat: Beautiful cables, flattering shaping – it really is stunning. On a previous visit to Kathy's Knits, I'd picked up some of Rennie's Carnation Supersoft 4ply. Okay, I'll be honest: I bought her out of it. The colour is an exact match for a treasured (but now worn out) jumper gifted to me by one of my brothers but since I didn't have a pattern, I took all that she had – wouldn't want to run out! Since this wasn't the yarn suggested by Ysolda, I carefully knitted up several swatches until I found the correct needle size using two strands together to achieve the required tension. And then the knitting could begin.
And it's been going on for quite a while. But this is all to be expected given the small amount of actual knitting time – and whilst it would be nice if I had an occasional visit from the knitting fairy, I'm okay with the slow speed of progress.
And now, on reflection, it seems that I won't be putting in any further hours at all. I have reached the conclusion that this garment isn't for me. Yes, it's very nice but it's not Katherine. So there remains only one course of action: Frog the work.
And then find an alternative The One. And I think that I've found it: "Cullin" by Mary Henderson (again, note the errata). And I think that I have some suitable yarn: Rowan's felted tweed chunky Not quite the break from tradition that I was aiming for but for me, but perhaps this is a start.
* Provided each knitting session is several days in length, undisturbed and fuelled by endless tea and cake = totally improbable ever to happen.