More than two years ago I saw a blanket in progress on the Mason-Dixon Knitting blog, and I said to myself, "Ahaaa, that is EXACTLY what I want to do with my worsted scraps." I was going to a symposium, and I popped a size 7 needle and some worsted weight yarn into my bag.
Somewhere in my archives I have already told you about the Mason-Dixon ladies-- about how I spotted their first book at the library back when I was just beginning my doctoral program, and how I was struck by the audacity of saying to oneself, "You know, I think my piano bench needs a cushion. Why don't I make a knitted cover for it?" These days I can easily imagine myself doing such a thing, but in 2006 it sounded a little like saying, "You know, I think I'll forge myself a new pot in which to cook my spaghetti tonight." The idea that I could just...wing it -- that idea was ultimately liberating, but it took me some time to cotton on to it.
If you clicked that first link you no doubt noticed the free-form nature of the blanket that caught my eye. It's based on their Log Cabin blanket pattern, but with a healthy dose of added insouciance. Square or stripe or rectangle -- pick your color and wing your shape. No rules, no fuss, just a big pile of happy garter-stitch crankety-cranking.
I spent some time with this blanket in early 2018, and then it went into timeout for a while. There is a lot of knitting in a blanket, you might not be surprised to learn, and an early wave of enthusiasm will not necessarily carry you very far. At some point last year I picked it up again, but I realized in the middle of that mac-and-cheese yellow square that I did not have enough mac-and-cheese yellow yarn to finish it. The thought of ripping the square back and starting it over made me unhappy enough to stuff the whole blanket back in its bag again.
It has been keeping me company for most of our lockdown. Garter stitch is a good accompaniment to the Lord of the Rings, I think -- it takes the edge off those long landscape-y sections, but it's brainless enough that I can read steadily at the same time.
It's mostly mitered squares, in which you knit down one side, double-decrease at the corner, and knit away down the second side. That's what creates the diagonal lines you see running across many of the shapes. This makes for some pleasant math: when will I be halfway done with this square? What about two-thirds?
For the rest of its life this blanket will be imbued with lockdown memories. I will remember sitting through Zoom meetings with its slowly increasing weight in my lap, and inching through Return of the King, and knitting my way through rosary podcasts before bed. Will they be mostly happy memories, of coziness and perseverance? Will they be frustrating memories, of irritation and uncertainty? Time will tell, I guess.
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