Wool and Spice

One of the beauties of blogging is that we’re all free to choose how much information we want to share about our personal lives. I’ve seen bloggers who talk about their break ups and their money troubles, their worries over kids or their pets, their ungrateful bosses.

For the most part, the knitting community responds with great kindness and more than a little generosity. I’m hoping for the same understanding as I tell you my shameful secret. It’s one I’ve hidden for as long as I’ve been knitting. Tragic circumstances now force me to let you in on my shame.

Please be kind.

Even though I know I’ll be a disgrace in the eyes of knitters of wool everywhere, I have to admit that my favorite winter hat is a battered store-bought white acrylic watch cap with holes in it. Furthermore, (deep breath here) I do not even own a hand-knit winter hat. Not one.

There. Now you know. It hasn’t been natural fibers that have kept the winter chill off my noggin for 15 years but man-made plastic-based yarns probably knit in China.

If you asked me to dress head-to-toe in my own knitting I couldn’t do it. I’d be able to put on socks and even leg warmers, more than a few sweaters, shawls, wrist warmers, mittens and scarves. But above the neck, I’d flunk the runway project.

It’s not that I haven’t ever knit hats, it’s just that I’ve given them all away. My acrylic watch cap fits me just right, with a brim just wide enough to cover my ears, is soft and doesn’t itch with enough looseness so my hair doesn’t go completely flat, and limp enough that I can stuff it in a pocket at will. I love my acrylic watch cap with a love that overcomes all desire for a Fair Isle tam, Norwegian ski hat or jester’s cap with bells.

So imagine my sorrow now that it has disappeared. I’ve looked high and low, in pockets, purses, car seats, grocery bags, knitting totes. I checked the wash. I checked the trunk of the car. I asked Jack if he’d seen it. I racked my brain. I went through all the pockets, purses, seats, bags and totes again. I looked on its storage shelf, picking up the hand-knit woolen mittens there to make sure it wasn’t hiding underneath.

Nada. My acrylic watch cap has left me bare-headed and broken-hearted.

What’s a knitter to do?

It took me about two seconds to pull out the file of hat patterns I’ve been accumulating and searching through the stash for a soft and warm merino/silk blend. Casting on will commence shortly. If my acrylic watch cap ever returns it will have some woolly competition.