I spent several years hiding from this sweater and hat while they sat in a box, waiting to hug me back when I was ready to return to them. (Isn’t that the very definition of family and home?)
I cast on the Ondawa sweater in November 2016, during my first year in San Francisco, when I was still living in a shared apartment, learning how to code and navigate the city's bike paths. I wore sweaters I'd knitted every day; their armpits felted from sweaty bike rides up and down hills. The Ondawa was my first cable sweater, and I struggled to keep track of which row I was on, especially while watching TV. I put it away. We moved twice, changed jobs, got married, and it lived in a box on top of a bookshelf.
I cast on the hat in February 2020 (88 stitches, 2x2 rib), so that I would have something to do on our honeymoon (train trip across Canada). We never ended up going (pipeline protests), and instead went on a "makeshift" honeymoon to Mendocino. I knitted a bit as we drove up the coast, then put it away when it was clear that the world was starting to close in on itself. All downtime was spent scrolling the news, worrying about my family in Hong Kong.
I came back to knitting this summer when I was looking for a way to spend quiet time with myself. It's been so different from sewing, where much of the work is mechanically aided and projects can be completed within a day. With knitting, each stitch is earned, considered, reconsidered, undone, redone, over the course of days, weeks, months, or, in my case, years.
It took me 8 years to complete the sweater; 3 years for the hat.
My current project is the Campy Bandana designed by
@allysondykhuizen. I cast on at Camp Workroom Social, where I was inspired to see many knitters among us, stowing WIPs in their bags, lending out stitch markers (thank you Talia!). I am excited to make more sweaters. And if they must spend some of their life as UFOs, I'm totally fine with that.