Colours and Joy

I met my goal of getting a good part of sleeve two done.  I did more than I thought I could, in fact.  There was only one colour section to knit this morning and the ribbing and that last colour section was completed with coffee one.

Because coffee.

I have only the ribbing to do and the neck and placket work and it is time to think about buttons.  And when I realized that it was button time, I started to cry.  I have no idea why, but the tears flowed down my cheeks unbidden. As Cassie said to me the other day, Grandma, I don't know, but sometimes my tears just come out.

Whatever it is, it is connected to the knitting, possibly even to this sweater.  It is possible that it is connected to the yarn, though I don't think that is it.  It is this sweater, I think.

Tears tend to flow every time I feel deep emotion.  If it is happy, I cry.  If it is sad, I cry.  If it is stress, I cry.  It a kind of knee jerk fall back reaction that must have stood the test of time for some of my primordial ancestors or it would not have developed and resulted in me.  So what I need to think of is why this sweater is causing such deep emotion.

I chose the colours and bought the yarn with Myrtle in mind, I remember that.  My only error in the purchasing was that I thought I needed 5 colours when Myrtle only calls for 4.   I remember sitting in the store on my shopping stool, putting cones of colours up on the counter nearby. When I looked at Kate Davies Myrtle , what caught my eyes was the pop of the cream against the other colours.  I wanted one colour to be a bit of a standout too.  Putting up the blue chicory was the punch of colour, and the perfect intensity of feeling.  Oh my, that punch of blue.

On reflection, my tears this morning are about the colours. Sounds odd doesn't it, but colour has been very much part of  my whole progress making a life, making a framework for myself as just me rather than as the me that was part of a couple. Colour was part of my fight to feel like me again.  I think the punch of blue is what brought my tears.  It is a very powerful thing to look at what might well be the first glimmer of me alone, the first sign that the me who I am now, was fighting to come out.

I have been knitting this sweater from cones and I have used little of any one cone.  The black used the most by far, but I have more than half left even of that.  There will be lost left to make another sweater of some kind.  It will probably be one using just the warm colours with the cream and another using the leftover black and my gorgeous punchy blue.  But not immediately because there are some other fun things to knit first.  

That is the best thing about knitting.  There are always more fun things to knit.  Colours and joy and knitting.