The Egg Lady

Yes, indeed.
There I was yesterday afternoon, buying cheese and trying to restrain myself from singing along too conspicuously to "The Night Chicago Died" (When did supermarkets start playing such awesome music?) when I spotted it. Checking for goo on the bottom of her egg carton was a lady wearing the perfect sweater. At least, it was perfect for what I was on the lookout for: a stitch pattern for my deep violet yarn.

I have had this yarn for a long time, and on more than one occasion it was going to be "next." However, none of the swatches I've made with it seems to be just right. It's a smooth yarn, acrylic, with a gauge of 4 sts=1" on size 8 needles. You might think it would readily lend itself to any stitch pattern, but it hasn't been so. I've tried a simple eyelet lace, but the holes seem too wide and the decreases too lumpy. I've tried rope cables, but the color seems too deep to show them off to good advantage. I've considered stockinette stitch, but it would be too craven a choice. When this yarn speaks to me, it appeals to me to knit it into something winsome but unfussy, special but substantial. The only thing I know for sure is I want to make a cardigan. I think.

The egg lady's sweater was a spring green raglan style with a zipper, but these features were irrelevant to me. I maneuvered my cart next to hers and picked up an egg carton myself, pretending to check for broken eggs as I studied her back. It was an allover stitch pattern combining knit and purl stitches, and it reminded me vaguely of waffles.

As soon as I got home I rushed to check Barbara Walker's A Treasury of Knitting Patterns. I flipped through the first section: moss stitch? sand stitch? spot stitch? Aha! Broken rib pattern. I've seen this pattern before, of course, in this book and other stitch encyclopedias, but I failed to fully appreciate its charm until I saw it knitted into a bona fide sweater. I think this pattern might be just right, but I am not the final authority. I will have to consult the yarn.
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Sleeves, Sleeves, Sleeves
I worked on the sleeves of my second ugly sweater during every spare moment: a couple of rows early in the morning, at least an inch during lunch, and as much as I could manage in the evening. Day by day as my birthday deadline approached, the first sleeve grew longer and longer. At last I reached the shaping of the sleeve cap, and I realized that the bind-offs at the beginning of the rows exactly matched the directions for shaping the armholes. I felt like the astronaut in Arthur C. Clarke's 2001 reflecting on the measurements of the monolith. How logical! How necessary! The geometry of knitting can be as elegant as any mathematical formula.

I had allocated a week for each sleeve, but the knitting of the first one exceeded that by two days. I would have to make up time if I was to have the sweater sewn together by my birthday. With renewed energy and determination, I cast on for the second sleeve.
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W.I.P.
Although I haven't yet reached the center neckband bind-off, I'm pleased with my progress. I finished the armhole shaping and am well into the section of lighter rose. I like the look of these colors together very much. Maybe my next sweater will also be a type of color block design, unless I finally begin that deep violet cardigan.

Purls of Wisdom
From Carolyn Clewer's Kids Can Knit: "Knitting your first sweater will take less time than you think."

Tomorrow:

• The second ugly sweater: Will I meet my birthday deadline?
• W.I.P.: Will I still be working on the front?