That Purple Yarn

As I've begun the reknitting process this purple yarn has actually brought back a lot of memories. There's the trip Abby and I made to Duquesne when she was just contemplating going there where I knit with this purple yarn in the car while we discussed Derrida (really and truly). Then the frustration when I got home and figured out the sweater was going to be too small and had to rip the whole thing out.Then there was the trip to Duquesne to actually leave her there, especially the trip back where I think my purple yarn actually made Jim sneeze (it had gotten dusty while sitting around) and David got us horribly lost. Knitting while overseeing the canning department at the fair came next. Then the trip to NYC with Jim and knitting in the car and at the Bronx Swift's house. Then there was the trip to Duquesne, alone, when Abby was actually there, when knitting happened in a motel room and in her apartment. Then the months of putting it down and picking it up again and getting frustrated because it wasn't exactly coming out the way I wanted. Blogging about it, complaining about it. This yarn has had tears dropped on it, made people sneeze, gotten criticized, gotten compliments. Now it's beginning all over again. I love it (the color is really vibrant), I hate it (it's so fine...). Even the spinning of it has memories attached: watching Bonnie and Clyde while spinning, marveling at the softness of Sophie's fleece (while spinning), watching ER while spinning, watching Brideshead Revisited while spinning. This time so far it's been knitting at red lights (you can get a good twenty stitches in), knitting while praying (about 10 stitches per bead), knitting while watching MASH, but absolutely no knitting during Red Sox games (that's a memory too).

There are more memories ahead. This purple yarn will travel to a Chesterton conference and give me something to do with my hands (since taking notes seems to be a waste of time because I always lose them). It will give me something to do in the car when I'm not driving (can I hope the entire trip???). I suspect it's going to be my most frequent companion all fall. Who knows how many discussions this yarn will be knit through, how many comments other people will make about it. Will it be cried over, sneezed over, complained about (whoops that's already happened!), marveled at, delighted in, laughed over or what? How many happy days of knitting, frustrated days of knitting, days when knitting is what helps me retain my sanity in the midst of chaos remain ahead. I really don't know. What I do know is that at the end, the finished product will retain traces of those memories, as well as traces of the earlier ones, and now those earlier memories have a special place all there own, even if I did have to rip all the stitches out.