Monday, February 11, 2008

The "Baby It's Cold Outside" Sweater

Until last week, I had never knit anything for myself. This, I think, is not uncommon for mothers...and it is the phenomenon in my life which prompted the survey you will find in the margin of thi s blog. Anyhow, I decided to prioritize myself for a change...well, actually, that's not really how it happened. In truth, I bought the yarn intending to make a sweater for my sons (as usual)...and then decided that there was something about it that had "Mom, there is no way I am wearing THAT" written all over it. As I had fallen deeply and passionately in love with the yarn, rather than abandon the project entirely, I executed a back-up plan...something for myself for a change!
If yarn could be metaphor...this yarn would be snowstorm. When I look at this yarn, the feeling is reminiscent of looking outside in a blizzard at night when the sky is black but the snow is lit by the houselights - or the look of a hat/sweater which is covered with snow and badly needs to be dusted. It is the look of fair isle "snow/background" without the work.

It is called "Linie 97/Iceland"and is made in Germany by OnLine. The colors I chose were "embers" and "dusk". From a distance, the skeins look moderately interesting - here you can see the skeins in their natural form and habitat.

...But to appreciate their nuances, a more up-close viewing is essential:
Here is how the yarn looks when knit:

Embers stockingette, dusk ribbed, and the interface.To fashion the perfect sweater for this beatiful yarn, I merely had to summon a favorite old song by Frank Loesser, "Baby it's Cold Outside"...and the perfect sweater began to emerge in my had to be warm, it had to be soft, it had to have a turtle/cowl neck (but couldn't be stiff and choking), and it had to be form-fitting/sexy....VOILA... It's all about the yarn! "I really can't stay - Baby it's cold outside.
I've got to go away - Baby it's cold outside.
This evening has been - Been hoping that you'd drop in
So very nice - I'll hold your hands, they're just like ice
My mother will start to worry - Beautiful, what's your hurry
My father will be pacing the floor - Listen to the fireplace roar
So really I'd better scurry - Beautiful, please don't hurry
Well Maybe just a half a drink more - Put some music on while I pour..."

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