The Tale of the Boring Cowl

You got a hint of this one: it was the reading knitting of choice in Navarre, while I read George Marsden’s Fundamentalism and American Culture. It went in the car with us from site to site, and sat on my lap for long hours while I pored over millenarian diagrams.

What is it, you ask? It’s the Willow Cowl, another Ravelry freebie. I confess, the pattern choice was total peer pressure. Everyone at work was making one, so I caved. Don’t look at me like that; if everyone knit themselves off a cliff I wouldn’t follow. Probably. (Though I’m getting that itch for a Doctor Who scarf.) Also: it’s not drugs.

Pattern review: Love! sweet and simple, if you don’t mind all those YO, K2tog rows. I like telling random people it’s called faggotted lace just to see their reaction. Also, I have a deep affection for picot hems. And for picking up a turned hem in general. I don’t pretend it’s normal.

The yarn choice was based on the recipient. I was knitting my Newfie Buddy a hat; it seemed somehow weird not to knit something for his wife, an awesome lady friend. I knew it would be a Willow, I just needed the yarn. It took exactly five seconds staring at the sock yarn shelf to find the one that said “JONI!” in bright fuchsia and black. It was a nice cushy sock yarn from Cherry Hill, which I got as a gift… which is a long story that deserves a special post of its own, another day.

It pooled interestingly during the first bit of lace. With yarn this crazy, you get an interesting looking thing even with relatively chill knitting. When it’s worn, the lace bits billow out into tiers, like those pictures you saw in National Geographic of the ladies with the long necks held up with rings.

Joni loved it. I think only the recent spate of 85-degree weather got it off her. I forgot to take a picture of it on its new owner, but maybe she will link to one…

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