All good things must come to an end, even if they are very, very long good things. Today I bid a fond farewell to the knitting of my Tokyo Shawl, and a warm welcome to years and years of wearing it.
On the train home from Boston on Saturday, I knit the last gently slanting rows, and wove in the ends. As soon as I dropped my grip in the front hall, I washed the shawl in the kitchen sink, squoze out as much water as I could, and activated my blocking wires. It was only when the shawl was off the needles and lying flat that its architecture: three columns of stacked blocks, separated by two long diagonal sections, became clear. Taking advice from our reader Carol M., I lined up the edges of the shawl using my blocking roll’s grid for reference. I only used 6 wires for the whole thing; I was tired, and the shawl really was being very cooperative. I flattened down all the garter edges, and waited until morning. My sleep was the sleep of the shawl-satisfied.
Rarely has a project turned out so close to my expectations, in every way: color, fit, size, weight. It’s floaty and silky but not delicate or lacking in heft.
The Tokyo Shawl’s diagonal lines, formed with only two increases and two decreases in every other row, create a bias fabric. I’m always freshly surprised at what a difference it makes to knit a fabric on the bias.
See that nice drape at the neck? It wouldn’t be the same if the fabric were knit on the straight grain, nor would the shawl hug the shoulders as nicely. I cannot explain the physics, but it’s a totally different fabric behavior.
(The way it will often get worn, all bunched up.)
It was very satisfying to knit that cushion-sized pack of yarn down to these nubbins. (Note: the yarns are Isager Spinni wool and Isager Alpaca 1, two laceweights that are held together throughout.) They’re going into my bag of Isager nubbins. Surely there will be a project someday for all these bits. (I’ve had my eye on Grace Anna Farrow’s Dusk for ages. Might have to supplement the leftovers. Or just knit another Isager project and generate more remnants.)
(Some folks have sock drawers.)
Seeing as how we are fully into the muggy days of June, I folded my Tokyo Shawl the way it wanted to be folded, and tucked it away in my Konmari Shrine, um, scarf drawer, which contains only the most joy-sparkiest wraps and drapes that I possess.
On to the next good thing: my Fort Tryon Wrap is going with me on more Amtrak rides this week. Plenty of room in the scarf drawer.