Look for me with the sun-bright sparrow
Pattern: Molly by Erin Ruth
Yarn: Araucania Nature Wool Solids (100% wool), colorway #46 (that’s my guess — it was covered by a price sticker)
Needles: U.S. 3 nickel Options fixed 24″ circulars, U.S. 6 Harmony wood Options 24″ circulars (magic-loop style)
I started this hat on October 19 with the express intention of selling it at our Craftin’ For CASA sale. When I brought it to my Craft Wisely class, my teaching assistant seemed surprised. “So simple!” she said, looking at the single horseshoe cable and the seed stitch background.
I know I often knit complicated things. I like knitting complicated things. It keeps me interested and gives me a sense of accomplishment. But I don’t disdain the simple things. It’s not like becoming an intermediate or advanced knitter means that the easy patterns are off limits. They don’t issue knitting access cards that determine what areas of Ravelry you can visit, or reserve the basic patterns exclusively for the use of beginners. I enjoyed this knit thoroughly for the six days it took me to complete. Seed stitch is so easy and relaxing for a continental knitter (my TA hates it with a passion, being a thrower). And cabling isn’t more fun the more difficult it is, at least not for me. Its magic works on me whether the cross is the same every time or whether there are six different variations.
Is it the challenge of the execution, the complexity of the process? Is it how much joy comes in the making? Or is the beauty of the finished product, the perfect fit and the gorgeous flicker of the softly heathered turquoise color, the texture of the big nested cables and pebbly seed stitch? Both … more the latter than the former, in this case, if I’m being honest. The hat was so quickly made that I am surprised everytime I see it in my projects, amazed that I made something so effortlessly perfect.
But mostly what makes this hat memorable is that it was paired with the Perfect Slouch hat I made for Heather, the first CASA client I knit for. Both hats, both slouchy, both shades of blue. One simple, young, and versatile; one easy to executive but with tailored and sophisticated details marking it for an older audience. Neither hat stayed in my life — both went to others. What remains with me is the yarn on my needles (slippery cotton, rustic wool), the stitches one after the other (spirals of stockinette, seesaw of seed stitch), and the sight of the two hats linked on the sale line, waiting to be claimed.