My Dad has slowly been transferring the contents of his house to mine. Turnabout is fair play, mind. For years, I slowly transferred the contents of various dorm rooms to his house. I'm getting the better end of the deal. I gave him tatty Duran Duran posters and he's been passing along Items of Quality.
Like the latest batch o' things, which was a trash bag filled with sweaters.* Some of the sweaters are destined for the costume shop on campus, because I have a sneaking suspicion they could be of use. But a couple are staying here.
The cardigan on top is a heavy Aran from L.L. Bean. It comes down to my knees and I could fit both children and myself in it but I'll keep it around for the next blizzard. Because there will be a next blizzard.
I'm not sure what to do with the white sweater underneath, tho. It suits me not but the label intrigues me:
While my knee-jerk impulse is to felt it and make something else with the result, it feels wrong to do such violent things to something from the "Isles of 'Sardegna.'" Or is that just me?**
But the last sweater is the one that I will never, ever felt. Not ever.
(Picture snapped in the Boy's mirror. Yes, my hair was having a day.)
(I've included this picture only because my jawline looks fantastic! Carry on.)
This is the sweater that I always grabbed when I was chilly at my Dad's house, which was all of the time, because he prefers his house cool enough to store meat. I have loved this sweater for years and years. This love is the problem. The sweater has seen better days. It's still wearable but I have fears for its future.
I'm pondering trying to replicate it somehow - but can't wrap my head around this stitch pattern. Anyone?
* I have no pictures of the bag itself. Because, really, you should be able to imagine this.
** I suspect I already know the answer to that.