Last Hanukah, Sandy got a scarf from me. It was lovely, knit from some Aurora Bulky, a yarn which has “the sponginess of a well-yeasted bread dough, paired with the exquisite softness of merino.”
Unfortunately, Aurora is also slippery as hell, and no sooner had I woven in hundreds of yarn tails left over from where I started or ended stripes, than they started to pop out. All over. The scarf went from awesome to ratty in less than a month.
I lived with it last winter. I didn’t know what I could do. But this winter, my perfectionism got the better of me. He didn’t mind the ends that much, but every time I saw the scarf, a shudder of disgust would overtake me.
So, I did what any slightly unbalanced control freak knitter of a fiance would do. I unraveled his entire scarf.
Then, I tried to connect all the tiny pieces of yarn that were what remained of the scarf by using a complicated technique known as the Russian join. This took me hours and did not, as promised, result in invisible joins between the various colors. It resulted in lumpy, lumpy joins.
Unraveled it again.
Then, I tried knitting the scarf as a tube to hide the ends on the inside, but that was just way too thick and took (duh) twice as much yarn.
So, I unraveled it again.
At the end of my rope, so to speak, I headed out to the yarn store so I could get some advice. Luckily my favorite of the two sisters who run the store was there (the shorter one with the redder hair), and she, like Dr. Phil, tells it like it is.
Me: I’m trying to do a striped, ribbed scarf with this stuff, and then weave the ends in so they’re invisible.
Yarn Store Sister: Oh, that won’t work. Not with that. Let’s try some of this and a little of this instead.
Oh, wise yarn shop sister. Thank you. Because finally, after three weeks, Sandy has his scarf back. And he can now stop looking at me with that gaze that says, “Why did you take my scarf away, crazy unbalanced knitting lady?”