A VERITABLE FROGGIN' OCEAN

This is the sad but true story of some very special wool and the dire predicament it faces.

The mother of someone very close to me purchased some gorgeous, snowy Aran yarn in Ireland many years ago, along with several pattern books. The large bag is labeled "Blarney Woollen Mill, County Cork" and a handwritten price tag is affixed which reads 9.5 pounds. This beautiful lady passed away before she could make the sweater which she intended to be for her daughter. And her daughter, who couldn't bear to look at the bag, passed it along to me knowing how I loved to knit and frolic in wool.

I knew when I received the bag, that ultimately I would make a sweater for this dear girl, knowing it was the only possible use for this particular wool. After sorting through the patterns in the bag and through every other Aran pattern on which I could place my hands, I finally decided that EZ's Aran from her Knitter's Almanac was the best choice. So with tons of markers and a huge gulp, I began.

Fast forward two years when I resurrected the project and resumed work on it. I had been very careful to achieve the correct gauge and was pleased with the results. I was almost to the top (it's knit and then steeked) when I began to realize that this sweater was going to consume the tiny woman for whom it is intended. She would literally be able to use it as a coat, and a not very flattering coat at that. So I once again set it aside. Much wailing and gnashing of teeth ensued.

It's ten days later and .................today is the day. This beautiful baby is going to be ripped. Completely, utterly ripped, reskeined, and wound back into center pull balls.

It will become a new Aran cardigan better suited to the petite pixie who will wear it. And while it's killing me to have to do this, I know it's the right thing. Somehow, that's going to help. Eventually.