You Must Use the Handknits
Remember the knitting disaster I described on my Mini-Meme? The one about the mouse-turdly scratchy sweater in a doomed relationship? It turns out the bf wore it, and wore it out! It's a great story, and I copied it below, editing only to eliminate names:
"I no longer have that sweater but only because it became worn out and dirty. When J and I were living in Florida, we were both very young and stupid. In north Florida it can get damn cold and neither of us brought proper clothes. However, I did have your sweater. Either, J or I wore the sweater almost every night for about three months that winter. Camping, canoeing, building bonfires, and everything else that we did down there, I usually had on either that sweater or my College sweatshirt. In fact, J would steal it and wear it himself if he thought I was not going to be around on a particular night or if I was wearing the College sweatshirt. Our friends used to make fun of us for exchanging the sweater like a couple of girls. Neither of us developed the Bubonic plaque, so I am pretty sure it was free from mouse turds, however I am not sure if the plaque could have survived the level of alcohol that was usually present in our system. It finally died at the end of the winter when J, our friend S and I unsuccessfully tried to build a rope bridge over the Suwannee river. The cable attached to my harness broke and I fell into the VERY cold river. Even then I didn't immediately throw it out, but tried to dry it, but after it started to stink really bad (and if it stunk to me then, it had to really stink), I gave it a proper funeral by placing it on a pyre and burning it. Maybe not quite the way you intended, but I did in fact get a lot of use out of that sweater."
And that's the best compliment you can give a knitter: wearing something she (or he) made until it can simply be worn no more and must be sacrificed on a funeral pyre. Thanks, R. I'm touched, really I am.
"I no longer have that sweater but only because it became worn out and dirty. When J and I were living in Florida, we were both very young and stupid. In north Florida it can get damn cold and neither of us brought proper clothes. However, I did have your sweater. Either, J or I wore the sweater almost every night for about three months that winter. Camping, canoeing, building bonfires, and everything else that we did down there, I usually had on either that sweater or my College sweatshirt. In fact, J would steal it and wear it himself if he thought I was not going to be around on a particular night or if I was wearing the College sweatshirt. Our friends used to make fun of us for exchanging the sweater like a couple of girls. Neither of us developed the Bubonic plaque, so I am pretty sure it was free from mouse turds, however I am not sure if the plaque could have survived the level of alcohol that was usually present in our system. It finally died at the end of the winter when J, our friend S and I unsuccessfully tried to build a rope bridge over the Suwannee river. The cable attached to my harness broke and I fell into the VERY cold river. Even then I didn't immediately throw it out, but tried to dry it, but after it started to stink really bad (and if it stunk to me then, it had to really stink), I gave it a proper funeral by placing it on a pyre and burning it. Maybe not quite the way you intended, but I did in fact get a lot of use out of that sweater."
And that's the best compliment you can give a knitter: wearing something she (or he) made until it can simply be worn no more and must be sacrificed on a funeral pyre. Thanks, R. I'm touched, really I am.
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