Thursday, May 8, 2008
Is it too much to ask?
To actually be allowed to take a photograph of the jumper I spent weeks knitting. Apparently so. Having been banned from so much as mentioning any size or shape of a knitted offering for eldest child, my one and only son for the last eight years at least I was staggered when just before Christmas he casually threw into the conversation that I never made him anything. When I had recovered from my indignation enough to point out his self imposed embargo he shrugged in that way teenagers do as if to say, yeah, that was then this is now, how come you're not up to speed. I could hardly wait to get the needles clicking and was just about to scurry away to see what patterns I could uncover, images of once loved cartoon characters popping into my head, only for me to realise he probably wouldn't want Thomas the Tank to adorn his chest, when he stopped me. Yes he agreed I could knit him a jumper, in fact he wanted one for the winter which starts about now in NZ, but and this but was as big as Everest, only if he chose the pattern and the wool. Of course I agreed. That's how desperate I was to prove I could still be a good mother and provide for her oh so nearly but not quite please grown up son. So I ended up knitting a seriously big jumper (well alright he's only a 32 chest so not much bigger than me) but it felt like a much bigger jumper believe me, with a three by two rib pattern, which actually did not exist in a jumper pattern but had to be adapted from a vest. I cheated and did the sleeves plain because I was getting, how shall I say this, fed up, bored, no more pig sick of it. My brain hurt with working the maths out and swapping figures because the pattern didn't have sleeves but another jumper did but not in his size. You get the picture. It was a lot of extra work. He did pick my absolute favourite wool to knit with,Zhivago which is 50% tencel and 50% acrylic and has a silky texture but, my heart sank when I saw his choice, navy blue. Why not something more interesting. My poor aged eyes. Is the boy trying to blind me before I make him anymore jumpers?
The jumper has been finished since the end of February but it took me all of March to get around to blocking it. It needed a little coaxing in length because the boy had decided he would gain a few inches in height. I had wisely already done a size bigger in the chest but alas and alack had failed to show the same foresight into height. Clearly, said my feeble brain my little baby won't grow anymore at 18. Word to self. They do. He did.
It then hung on the back of the door successfully blocked and awaiting a visit from the recipent. He'd asked about it several times when we passed each other at work but somehow there was always something more interesting going on so he didn't come home.
The last night he arrived from football training and announced he was ready for his jumper. I then tried to persuade him that I needed a photo, proof that he had allowed me to make him one and then came a lot of chasing around the house while I tried to caputre one shot of him and the jumper. I failed but I guess it doesn't really matter. I know I made him one. But really would a photo have been too much to ask?