In March, I started a sweater.
It was grey - a beautiful warm grey wool, lofty and springy and nommy. And it was warm. It was going to be a cozy raglan, with bright red buttons along the top decrease edge. The sort of sweater you cuddle in. The sort of sweater you wear while drinking cocoa, curled up by the window when the rain is beating on the roof.
It was the perfect sweater - until I tried it on. The fit was terrible.
I frogged it last night. This way, the yarn can become something else, instead of being that one ugly sweater stuffed in the back of the closet, never to see the light of day.
Letting go was hard, but I did it. And I am happy about it.
It was grey - a beautiful warm grey wool, lofty and springy and nommy. And it was warm. It was going to be a cozy raglan, with bright red buttons along the top decrease edge. The sort of sweater you cuddle in. The sort of sweater you wear while drinking cocoa, curled up by the window when the rain is beating on the roof.
It was the perfect sweater - until I tried it on. The fit was terrible.
I frogged it last night. This way, the yarn can become something else, instead of being that one ugly sweater stuffed in the back of the closet, never to see the light of day.
Letting go was hard, but I did it. And I am happy about it.
No comments:
Post a Comment