Wednesday, March 30, 2011

Once Upon a Time, a True Story (2KCBWDAY4)

When faced with the topic for Day 4 of the Knitting and Crochet Blog Week Extravaganza, I was at a loss as to what exactly I should talk about.  The topic, you ask?  To talk about what ever happened to some of our past projects.  I figured I would open up my Ravelry project page and see what I wanted to talk about... and realized I had a lot of things in there.... by a lot... I mean A LOT.  And honestly I didn't post everything up there, either!  So what should I talk about?

The tons of dolls I made that now reside on my children's beds?

The cute little pants I made Buttercup that no longer fit her?  Wow that was hard to admit.  I knew it was time to put them up when I could no longer ignore that her little behind crack showed every time she bent over.
Or the chicken hats I made?

Or the numerous things I made for other people that I no longer see?
I just wasn't sure if I really had an interesting enough story to tell...  And then I remembered... a tragedy.

I will wait while you go grab a hanky.



Ok, you ready?

Once upon a time there was a young mother who had finally succeeded in making a sock.  She was almost done with the other one, when someone told her she was knitting wrong!  The shame and embarrassment were extreme.  You can only imagine.  As a crafter caught doing something wrong, the automatic knee-jerk reaction is to become defensive.

But she was right.

So the young mother swallowed her pride and thanked the woman for pointing out to her the mistake she made.  You see, she was knitting backwards!  After the embarrasment waned she became so grateful to learn to that there was hope for her knitting.  That not all had been lost.

She finished her sock.  Only those with a trained eye would recognize her mistake.

Swearing to learn from her past, the young knitter cast on a new sock.   A sock for herself.  She pulled out a funky wool she found.  It was cheap wool, but good for a beginner.  She case on and worked and worked.  She finished her masterpeice.  She put it on her foot, modeled and admired it.  Even took a picture or two.

Then she out it in her drawer and forgot about it.

One might think that was the end.  But no.  No, somehow (gulp) that one lone sock fell into the laundry.  Tumbled among strangers in a land where she did not belong, the poor sock found herself unable to scream as she was tossed into a large cylinder.  Without lips she could not call for help, trapped, drowning in a bath of hot soapy water our sweet little friend found her end.  The young knitter, who had so lovingly made that ONE sock, discovered the limp and now tightly woven sock... crumpled broken and now completely useless.  Felted to death, lost among the darks.

She never made another sock again.

Don't worry, I will look away while you dry your tears.  Just remember that at the end of every tragedy there is still the possibility of a new beginning... a hope for the future.
A future where there will be two socks, together, forever.

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