Moments of a Handmade Life.

I have always enjoyed making things.  Some of my best moments, little inconsequential moments in a lifetime of ordinary me moments, are moments connected to things I have made.

I remember one particular doily, an unusual pattern, a standout really, that I gave to a friend for high school graduation.  (All of my friends got doilies.  I am such a geek). The pattern is long gone, but I remember exactly how it looked, crisp and blocked out just moments before I wrapped it up to give it away.   Of all the doilies I made, this one stays fresh in my mind.  (Slightly less fresh, is the memory of the look on my friends face when I gave it to her. 1976? teenage girl who was not me?  Doily?  Not cool.)  

I remember a dress I sewed, dark green, princess seams, with little hints of crisp white braid just a bit above the hems.  I remember standing in grandmas kitchen, taking off my coat and how one of my aunts could not hold back compliments on the fit and style of it.  She was not usually the effusive sort.  Still makes me smile.

I remember a blue scarf I crocheted for my mother in law and how the glittery little thing was something she remembered and wanted to wear even though she lost herself. 

As good as these moments make me feel, there is nothing quite like the moments when I first try on something I have knit to wear. Hope and terror. Pure hope.  Sheer, utter, terror.   That very short walk down the hall to a mirror takes an eon and every horrible thing that I could imagine is imagined.  Terror doesn't begin to cover it. 

The sweater was finally far enough along to try on yesterday afternoon. 

I worried that it was going to be too large.  It looked distressingly blousy and wide while I was knitting it.  It also looked stumpy and short.  And I worried that it would be too small. I worried so all the possibilities would be covered.

After Brenda's post yesterday, the part where she talked about row gauge and where the pattern would sit on ones bosoms...Row gauge?  Where will the pattern sit?  It never occurred to me to worry about that before.   So I did.      

No worries. It fits.

I still have some tweaking to o before I am done.  I need to knit for length and I need to knit some sort of edges and hems, but it will work.

I might not remember everything about this one sweater in the hazy far off future, but I will forever rejoice in and remember the way it feels the first time I see a handmade thing sitting on my shoulders.