Here’s the story, because there’s always a story.

I started making this jumper for James in the summer of 2014. He had just got his A level results, which were better than we had anticipated, and was wondering what to do next. As he was waiting to apply to McGill university in Montreal, he was taking a gap year and had just got himself a job at a well known purveyor of costume jewellery in Bromley before eventually going off to work on a wine estate in Australia.

In anticipation of an eventual journey to the frozen north or, in fact, winter in Beckenham, I thought I’d make him a jumper out of this beautifully soft, light warm alpaca yarn that I’d found. I knitted the back in a couple of weeks in the time I’d sit waiting for Eliza at BYMT. I’d nearly finished that first section when, first idiocy, I stuffed my knitting bag into the seat pocket of my car too carelessly and the stitches all slipped off their wooden needle. Now, this is where I panic. I find it terrifying to pick up stiches that I’ve dropped. I’ve read all sorts of instruction manuals and watched all sorts of YouTube videos but, in the heat of the moment, I panic. But I did manage to pick up those stitches, though it was a while before I realised that I’d twisted them the wrong way round and dropped a few untwisting them.

Shortly after this I decided on a whim to start my first big crochet throw project. I could do them both simultaneously, couldn’t I? Reader: I could not. Second idiocy. My pesky Low Boredom Threshold kicked in after a few weeks and my unfinished crochet throw was packed away in a box, sending me reproachful vibes every time I bought yet another knitting and crochet encyclopaedia and looked longingly at the patterns. I just couldn’t settle until I’d done the needful and finished the unfinished. I hate the unfinished. So I finished the throw. (Actually I didn’t technically finish it as it was supposed to be a lot bigger than it is. I finished it prematurely. As I read yesterday, DONE is better than PERFECT. It wasn’t it; it was me) But at least I had a throw.

Late in the summer of 2015, James went off to university in Montreal and our kitchen and sitting room extension were built, both at vast cost. Money was pretty tight for a while, particularly as we hadn’t been exactly certain that we’d have to pay Canadian university fees, so I decided that I would try and make sweaters rather than replenishing my wardrobe at Brora. Of course I would. This was idiocy number three.

I went back to the jumper for a bit but lost heart. I overthought the needle size because my tension was pretty slack in those days, resulting in THIS monstrosity that seems to have disappeared somewhere in the frozen North, so I used smaller needles and then got completely confused about which needle size I was supposed to be using. My assiduous notes on the pattern were no help as I could neither remember nor believe what I had written and second guessed myself. Overthinking is not a good thing, (though arguably better than underthinking.) More folly here. I kept dropping stitches and got demoralised. I forgot how to M1; I kept finishing balls of yarn in the middle of rows. At one point I ended up in a terrible tangle because I decided to skip the step of balling my skein. Alpaca is lovely but very fluffy and, unballed, it becomes very tangled very quickly so I had to cut myself out of that one.

And then, last autumn I moved here. And my unfinished jumper and reproachful, expensive alpaca yarn came with me. At first I hid it away in a wardrobe, but I could still feel its glaring vibes, especially when I started my amigurumi Ruby Rabbit out of the blue. I knew I had to resolve things one way or the other. So I picked up my needles (one 9mm, one 10mm by then but I didn’t notice this until I’d completed the back – more idiocy) and off I went.

I misread the pattern on the first sleeve and purled instead of knitted so now I have a lovely section of garter stitch on the lower part of the sleeve, just above the cuff. The second sleeve would have been perfect if I hadn’t dropped a stitch on almost the final row. And, sewing the raglans together, I noticed the difference in tension and stitch size over the years.

Sadly, this jumper is now far too small for James and I expect that Eliza will politely decline the offer of accepting it as a Christmas gift. Happily, though, it fits me now that I’m a couple of sizes smaller than I was, as a baggy chunky jumper. The finaly idiocy is that, whilst perfect for Canada, it’s far too warm for Hong Kong. My jumper of idiocies: it’s already become my favourite probably because of its many and various imperfections. Just like people: you’ve got to look behind the surface and decide whether it gives you what you need.

Orange raw silk scarf in picture: Artisans Angkor

Anyway, here are the facts:

Simple Sweater from Debbie Bliss Winter Brights made with Paloma yarn in Shade 4 Black 60% alpaca 40% merino on, variously, size 8mm, 9mm and 10mm needles. You need four stitch holders and two safety pins to hold the stitches before you make it up. 

What I have learned:

• A lot can change in your life and your skill in 5 years
• That when you put things off because of frustration, they’re still there taunting you. The fear only ever grows. It’s best to look at YouTube then take a deep breath and get on with it.
• It’s best not to overthink.
• Black yarn isn’t the easiest to work with when you’re trying to sort out mistakes or pick up stitches. It’s difficult to see the stitches when you’re sewing it up too.
• Carelessness causes a lot of frustration. I learned how to pick up stitches but forgot it again in 5 years. Better to be less careless.
• Sewing up raglans with Mattress Stitch
• revising M1 stitches by picking up the loop and knitting into the back to avoid holes
• Understanding of left-and right-leaning decreases
• Révision of picking up stitches and knitting across pieces to form collar
• That it’s far less laborious to weave in your ends using a crochet hook than threading a needle every time.