Collar Closing Cardigan

When Sally Melville's book Color came out, I totally fell in love with this sweater:

And finally, started it a couple of weeks ago - January 27th, to be precise. It's working up really quickly, and I love the colors. Here's the back of it

And here's a close up of the public side of the collar yarns worked together:

I used Berroco Monet and Louisa Harding Sari Ribbon together with the Aurora 8 merino. You would never think that these three yarns go together, but I love them.

I've done the fronts up to where you begin using the collar yarns, so they should be done soon. I hope to start on the sleeves this weekend and get the whole thing completed by next Friday. Hey, we can all have goals. Julie and Lisa have already finished theirs, so I'll try to get photos posted. Linda's working on hers in a spectacular blue combination. I can't wait to see the collar yarns worked together.

I've already planned my next version of this sweater. Can't wait.

What a hellish day I had yesterday! I woke up feeling like I had pinecones in my throat. We’re talkin’ four Motrin and three Tylenol are not taking care of the pain kind of pain. so I called the doctor’s. They’re very nice there, and they worked me in at 10:30. The PA said my throat looked red and yucky, but not necessarily like strep, so she prescribed Augmentin which is a little bit broader spectrum than plain old Amoxicillin. The kids have taken it for ear infections with no issue, but, I’ve never taken it myself. Well, let me tell you, it his hellish stuff. In the old days they used to die without antibiotics, but after this one, I only wished I were dead. One little pill and I sicker than a dog. That leftover Indian food I had for lunch – big mistake…

So I called the PA. She suggested Keflex. Keflex is the stuff that made my mother’s skin peel right off in sheets, so I said maybe not. We opted for plain old Amoxicillin, and she made me promise to call in three days if I wasn’t feeling lots better. I got home and crawled into bed around 6. When I woke up at 8:30, I was feeling a little better, because the Augmentin was out of my system but even today I’m still trying to swallow that pine cone. Oh, and look, it’s nine o’clock. I can have more Motrin. I think I’ll crawl into bed…and knit. Yes, I feel well enough to knit…

Maybe tomorrow I'll feel well enough to post pictures of my Collar Closing Cardigan.

Friendship

I had lunch with an old friend today. We’re exactly the same age, and we’ve known each other since we were five. Our backyards butted up to each other, and we spent the long summers together lying in the grass, or riding our bikes, or climbing onto the roof of the local elementary school and pondering life from a dizzying height. She was a tomboy, and I was Miss Priss, but we loved each other like sisters. We were inseparable.

Her dad died when we were in fifth grade. It was an unfathomable loss for her whole family – especially her mother, who had married the love of her life. The mention of him still brings tears to her eyes 35 years later. We tried to stay friends through the difficult middle school years, but like all young girls, we developed at different rates and had different interests. The final blow was her mother’s remarriage and the family’s move to another neighborhood. Her new home was not far away, but it separated us by the abyss of different high schools.

We tried to keep in touch, but the familiar rhythm of life together was shattered. She went off to college in North Carolina, and I in Virginia. We seldom saw one another, and it seemed so awkward when we did. How could two people who’d been so close drift so far apart? After college, I got married, and then she did the same. We attended, but did not participate in, one another’s wedding ceremonies. We continued to keep in touch through Christmas cards, but I was living in California, and she in Maryland. We moved back east, and something drew us back together. It was more than just the physical proximity. I’m not sure what. Perhaps it was her insight on the unhappiness of my marriage before I’d dared to see it myself. Perhaps it was that we were each finally comfortable again in our own skin. Perhaps it was simply the enormous gravitational pull of shared childhood experiences. Whatever the reason, 30 years later, I am grateful.