Unravel, according to Webster's dictionary means to: "separate threads, or solve a mystery",both apt descriptions for today's blog.Early in the New Year my son invited me to share with him (and in turn my grandchildren) what I thought I had inherited from my parents. This is a challenging, complicated and curious question. I have probably spent most of my life, in one way or another trying not to be my parents. A casual glance at my life would illustrate more differences than similarities, a deeper look...we shall see!
A couple of years ago I knit my husband a sweater. It was one of those projects that began simply and developed a life of its own. My husband chose the yarn, a deep teal (the photo doesn't reflect its true color) 100% mercerized cotton made in Greece, he had a vision for the kind of sweater he wanted and I searched for a pattern. The first pattern I tried didn't do the yarn justice, the second created a "hand" like iron; the third using half-linen stitch seemed perfect. At one point in the knitting, it lay by the side of my chair approximately half finished when in answering the phone I dumped onto it a full bowl of mushroom soup. The washing and drying was not satisfactory, I "unraveled" and began again! In time I finished the sweater and my husband tried it on, he decided the neckline wasn't comfortable, I "unraveled" and refashioned it. At times when I left the knitting for a period, because work took precedence, I came back and found errors and redoes were required. From the beginning I was not happy with the sweater, but my husband loved it and wore it with affection. Every time he put it on I could see all the places I stopped and started, small flaws became magnified until a few days ago I decided to unravel the sweater and start again.
As I began to unravel the sweater I discovered new problems. The sweater was very well constructed and with knitted seams connecting front to back, and along the sleeve seams, it is proving to be a challenge. On reflection this unraveling project dovetails with the questions my son raised in relation to what I inherited from my parents. It has become a metaphor for the task ahead of me. Over the years I have knit a life for myself, I have worn it like my husband wore his sweater, with love and affection. Aware of its imperfection and flaws I have at times made corrections, removed the spills, and stitched it tightly together. Now I have been invited to look at it more closely and I see that in order to answer my son's questions I must "unravel" ; separate the threads solve the mystery...it will take time.
