I started this scarf as a project, an exercise, a meditation. I'll knit it when I'm waiting for things to work out, to be right, I thought. I will knit up my frustration, my angst, I will change it to love. Like the little boy in Kristen Balouch's Mystery Bottle, I will breath in the wind and mix it with love and knit it into the scarf.
I also wanted to make a scarf pattern to match the dulles hat, partially to make a matched set and partially as gratitude to all those who bought my pattern and made me feel loved, and knittingly competent.
What came out was a lovely scarf best suited for a little girl, although I must say it looks wonderfully on Everett and feels soft and comforting and springy on my own neck. I'll likely add a larger size for especially cold necks, but this would be suitable for an adult, if the adult isn't one of those people who prefer scarves that trail on the pavement. It's very simple to knit, and leaves a smallish ball of leftover yarn if you use Malabrigo Worsted, as I did. (The color I used is "intenso," and it's fiery and sparkling and gorgeous, isn't it?)
And Everett. What to say about Everett? The scarf is all wrong for him, no, he needs something else entirely. Maybe it will be the Mabel's scarf, maybe it will just be my ongoing order project. The winds of mood that have swept him up into himself have come and gone, sometimes bursting into our home like a tornado, no, a hurricane, lasting for an hour or a weekend, causing shouts and screams and desperate anger all around; sometimes whispering past us with that cold enveloping crispness of a foggy winter's day, all around but loving and wonderful somehow. He is on Prozac, and I will not say that it is a wonderdrug, but I will say that, inch by yard by millimeter, it is getting better. I know that we can not let him play computer games, or watch movies, or watch any TV at night, or have any change or minor abandonment in his life, without repercussions that reverbrate and bounce cruelly off each member of our family until destruction lies all around.
Oh, what a wind.
What works is routine, good, made-by-me food, constant love and attention, order, and hand knits. I fail a lot, but sometimes, I make something thoroughly right, and it is, indeed, a gift worth wrapping around you.