Approximately a zillion years ago, I bought the latest issue of my favorite knitting magazine Mon Tricot (this one is dated 1977) and some nice Aran yarn to entertain myself on a family road trip. I thought that if I knitted this sweater, I might be as cute as the very cute person in the photo. Sadly, when the sweater was finished, my expectations were not realized, and I didn’t feel even a tiny bit cute in it. I imagine that I probably tried it on once, went, “Blech!” and never wore it again. However, I could not quite bring myself to get rid of it, as it was not really a bad sweater. But nor could I ever bring myself to actually wear it. It languished in the back of a closet for many years. Then, as I was sorting through old clothes, Becca spotted it and wanted it. I gave it to her, but she never wore it either. When she moved into her own digs, I found it among a heap of rejected things on her bedroom floor. By now, I figured it was pretty icky, so I put it in the laundry basket. It hibernated there on the bottom layer for several more years. Then, one day when I was sorting laundry, Rachael saw it and wanted it. In what was by now becoming a family tradition, she never wore it either. When she moved into her own place, I found it again at the bottom of a heap of discards. I put it back in the laundry hamper. Finally, in a cleaning frenzy (actually the setting up of my little sewing room), I decided that I should have a normal laundry hamper which contained only clothes that were actually going to be washed, and not one filled with things I didn’t like but couldn’t quite throw away. I had to deal with all those little trolls in the bottom of that basket. I got out the sweater, tried it on, and liked it a lot. I have been wearing it constantly ever since. Go figure.
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