I am a proud woman. For some reason, finishing a lace project makes me feel like a superior human being. I understand that many sweaters and other projects are more challenging, warmer and infinitely beautiful. But, I happen to find great satisfaction in knitting lace.
For many years I have wanted to make a piece de resistance and I have worked my way ever upwards in complexity and ever downwards in thickness of yarn. I'm almost there.
I finally finished Sivia Harding's Shetland Garden Faroese Shawl out of Cashwool. And I added a knit on lace edging rather than the garter stitch and cast off that she called for. If I must say so, I think my ultimate product is outstanding! Beautiful! A work of supreme diligence and patience! And the mistakes are hard to find!!! (Many, many thanks to Jo of Celtic Memory Yarns who encouraged me to leave two of the mistakes in the shawl. They would have been cumbersome and unsatisfactory to fix. And, I dare you to find them!!)
Best of all, the shawl is a true wedding ring shawl: I can pull it all through my wedding ring!! For some reason, I have always wanted a shawl so fine that I can pull it through a wedding ring!!
This photo and the one above capture the true color, called "ocean."
This and the following photos are terrible on color, but show the lace. This is a field of leaves, outlined by fan ferns.
This is the rose trellis and the leaf border I added.
A little demonstration of the drapiness of the shawl.
And a view of one side.
Here is the shaping of the faroese styling. After a bit of the blocking.
And, the horrifying mess before getting it all pinned out.
This is the point where I do a lot of praying. Such a blob of twisted and interlaced thread. Who would imagine that this blob would be a thing of beauty?? This is why knitting lace makes me a superior human being. ;) Who else would have faith that the thousands of hours knitting have not been in vain? Who else would have faith that the thing will not fall apart when taken out of the sink? Who else would dare to wear the shawl, fearing that it would be caught on an errant nail, or a twig, or a sliver of wood?
Only a knitter would have faith and daring to make, block and wear a lace shawl--and not put it away in a drawer wrapped perpetually in tissue paper. Which is why I did not give the shawl to my mother. I couldn't part with it. I thought she would save it "for good", fearing to wear it lest it get caught, tangled or harmed. I plan to wear this shawl as soon as the Wisconsin weather gets a bit warmer--when I can throw it casually over my shoulders and have it billow behind me as I walk outside. With a carefree toss of my head, I will reply to compliments with, "Oh, this? I made it!"