(No dogs in this story). Let's start with something pretty, adetail of my finished shawl. All of the elements were there. A beautiful pattern, the Peacock Feather Shawl by Dorothy Siemens. And a beautiful yarn, my Squoosh Fiberarts Cedar lace, delicately variegated in the colors of a peacock's tail. It should have been a match made in heaven.
So why did I wake up this morning thinking about Keith H?
As a psychoanalyst, I trained myself to follow chains of association in thinking or speaking. While we are listening to our patients, we ask ourselves, "why is s/he thinking/talking about this now?" Try this, it's actually fun. Seemingly unconnected thoughts are often linked to networks of other thoughts that carry the same emotional quality. So it occurred to me that there might be a direct connection between Keith H. and my plan to blog the finished shawl this morning.
A few moments of reflection revealed the connection. Keith H. is the boy that I loved from afar (well, from across the aisle in Mr. Fox's homeroom, and then whenever we had a class together for the next three years) throughout junior high school. Uh huh, I pined for Keith, who barely glanced at me, for the longest time. His indifference did not matter, pining being a compelling enough activity that it required no encouragement.
I pined for this shawl as well, and almost as long. I saw it a few years ago, and waited for what I thought was the perfect yarn to make it. When I received this lace, I thought a match had been made in heaven.
I knit it anticipating the usual wonderful surprise I've experienced when lace is blocked. The thing about knitting lace is that you don't really know what you have until it's complete, so you learn not to evaluate the project too much as you are working on it. As I knit, things looked great. The motifs are fantastic, and the yarn seemed to be working. All the elements were there, I thought. Like me and Keith. Both smart, both tall, both kind of reserved and a little edgy.
Still, I had some inkling that things may not be as great as they might be. And I've been here before.
Keith and I did not hang with the same crowd, but one day he came to my friend's house after school and after a long wait, my dream came true. We kissed on the couch for a few hours (this was one of my group's after school activities in those years). I was cautiously happy. It didn't feel like romance per se, but maybe....
The next morning, Keith didn't speak to me in honor's English. I kind of knew the day before might not have been the start of something big, but it smarted just the same. To add insult to injury, when Keith and I made on contact on Facebook, he didn't even remember our tryst, although he did reveal himself to be such a colossal jerk that any residual pining (I confess, he had found a permanent spot in my dreaming life as the avatar of unfulfillment) came to a crashing halt. That at least, was a plus.
I esitate to compare this shawl and Keith H., since I don't have any complaint with the pattern. But things have just not worked out. My shawl is too small, the variegation of the yarn not really quite right. I doubt we will be spending too much time on the couch together. I don't think I will spend much time pining in this case. While there were very few boys taller than me in sixth grade, making Keith more alluring than he might otherwise have been,there are an awful lot of great shawls to distract me from longing.
I almost forgot to mention the wonderful Dorothy Siemens, who was very helpful when my dog ate my pattern. Sorry, I did say no dogs in this story.....A few tips for making this most worthwhile shawl. First, use a slightly heavier yarn than I did, or larger needles. I used number two needles, and my shawl is about six inches smaller than recommended, even with frighteningly aggressive blocking. You absolutely want to be wrapped in feathers for this one, so make it huge. And second, I think it might work better in a non-variegated yarn, or one with very even color tones. This yarn though beautiful and perfect in patches, just doesn't work overall.
And as for teen crushes and their aftermaths? Well, for every Facebook story of rekindled romance, I just bet there are ten like mine....stories that end in you saying....now I get it....phew......
