On my trip to Vermont and back on Sunday, I did indeed finish my Fort Tryon Wrap, as predicted. I never even touched my bag o’ needlepoint, though. On the last miles of our drive home, I was binding off Fort Tryon, then weaving in the ends. I had full-blown Finishing Fever. There was exactly one end still a-dangling when I was dropped at our front door. Within an hour, after the world’s quickest one-skillet dinner and cleanup, Fort Tryon was soaking, and then drying.
I always wish that I’d taken “before” blocking pictures, but even after all these years, I never see what’s coming.
Fort Tryon grew.
It grew a lot. (Entire living room for scale.)
Here, my petite friend Judy needs about one quarter less Fort Tryon Wrap, if we’re honest. You could roll up a full size mummy in this thing, and still have FT Wrap left over.
It’s divine. Judy, who’d dropped by last evening for emergency assistance on a dog coat she was knitting (I keep office hours, if you have a dog coat giving you trouble), could not get enough of it. “It’s amazing,” she kept saying, “it’s exquisite!”
It is, as Belinda used to say, rather good.
I knit a lot of garter stitch, yet I never remember how much garter stitch stretches, or how much wool grows when you wash it. If I had remembered these Basic Knitting Facts, I might have gone down more than just one needle size when knitting my Fort Tryon Wrap. I’m a loose knitter. I know this about myself.
On the other hand, I love the translucent lightness of Jill Draper’s Esopus knitted on Size 6 (US) needles. I’m not going to measure the gauge. It’s airy, and we’ll leave it at that.
Esopus is now at the top of my list of great yarns. It’s so crisp and well-constructed, a pleasure on the needles and in the fabric. I’m dying to make a Relax, one of my favorite sweaters ever, in Esopus.
The victory? Well, it’s always a victory to finish something. To finish something *big* is extra fun. In this case, now that I’ve seen summer evening light streaming through my Fort Tryon, I also feel the smugness of someone who has knit up a satisfying combination of colors. Someone who has latched onto the dream with both hands, and come out well pleased with the result. I told Judy that the color combination, especially the bright spring green (Esopus shade Green Tea) on the outside edge, was controversial. She was indignant: “it’s stunning,” she said. “How could anyone disagree!”
Not I, Judy, not I.
P.S. Here’s the original thrill of victory, for readers of a certain age. (The “agony of defeat” must be referring to chenille intarsia.)