Three months ago, I purchased the Handmaiden Sea Silk in ivory. I mastered the provisional cast on, done for the first time; I easily knit the first border edging rows. Then, screech. You see, my lace knitting experience is limited to socks; I have never before attempted a shawl. I knit; I frogged. Repeat as nauseum. Many pairs of socks tempted me away as I occasionally glanced askance at the very little I had completed on the shawl, which is a gift for my mother, otherwise known as "The Meem." She picked it out herself. It was a substitution for the Hug-Me-Tight from Knit Two Together which, I am ashamed to say, was supposed to be a gift for, gulp, last Christmas. It defeated me. The gauge looked screwy; the pattern seemed cursed.
As I switched to the lovely Lily of the Valley shawl, I thought the curse was broken, then convinced myself it dwelled within me and my incompetence. Just this past weekend, however, as the Tour de France was ending and with it Harry Potter, the curse lifted and it all made sense to me. Use plenty of stitch markers; get yourself a pattern keeper from KnitPicks. Happily, I am making progress! My inner glee cannot be contained!
After posting a photo of the shawl to my own blog, pretendingtofarm.com, I got numerous compliments and much interest in joining the quest for lovely lilies. Finally, I am a knitter of lace. The only caveat? Alcohol and lace do not mix. When imbibing, just say no to lace!
