08/02/2026
Where it all started… a friend from Maine taught me to knit in college and I of course saw nothing wrong with tackling a fisherman’s knit pattern (cables, seed stitch, two stands held together- you get the idea). I only wish now that I had that sweater and the body that fit in it😂!
The second sweater I ever knit was in the second row of the lecture hall in med school in 1991. 8am-5pm lectures and studying all night seemed an endless, and sometimes mind-numbing, routine. So I picked back up my knitting and brought it into class one day. The professor (an old white man) was completely flummoxed by the site of me knitting right in front of him so he called on me repeatedly the finally called me out on how “distracting and rude” it was for me to be knitting in class. I asked him if he could walk and chew gum at the same time to which he snorted and assured me he could. I pointed out that I was capable of knitting and listening and that instead of doodling like those in the middle rows or napping like those in the back, my hands were busy but my eyes and ears were available and focused actually, as my answers to his questions proved. Over the ensuing weeks he would fact check me fewer times and began to call on the doodlers and nappers and would check my project’s progress at the end of each class. At the end of that 6-week block he grudgingly complimented me on my test score and my sweater- to me it was the sweetest victory.
Med school and early residency was the Icelandic phase of my journey and produced multiple Fair Isle sweaters, some made for me and some for others in my life at the time. This beauty is 35 years old and is in perfect condition thanks to my grandmother’s cedar Hope chest. Hoping for a few more cold days this winter so I can enjoy this oldie but goodie.
