Shetland Triangle Shawl: the full gory details

This is shaping up to be my Year of the Shawl. This one is my fourth so far and many more are in the wings. Pun intended.



The wingspan of my new chunky Shetland Triangle Shawl is quite impressive, if I do say so myself. I'm very glad I broke into the third skein of yarn and kept going. The pattern instructions give eight repeats but I wanted it larger so did ten.



Knitting this was an absolute joy. I had the pattern down pat after the success of the last one and after knitting one in sock yarn, it was pleasing to repeat it in something chunky. It knits up with such satisfying speed.



This was truly a bargain shawl. My boss, an avid op shopper and crocheter herself, visits a certain rural op shop that shall remain nameless every weekend when she visits her elderly mother, and there is someone in that op shop who has too much time on their hands very dedicatedly unravels handknitted jumpers that come into the op shop, and then sells the yarn. I've had several calls from my boss this year saying There's a whole supermarket bagful of wool for $8 here, shall I buy it for you? and because I am weak cheap addicted and helpless easily pleased, I always say yes. So I had all this aran weight cream yarn wound into crinkly skeins, ready to dye with my huge stash of cherry and strawberry Kool Aid.



The knitting took just over two weeks. I love how quick shawls are to knit. Because you start with a very few stitches and increase every alternate row, you make a great deal of progress in a very short time, which is highly motivating. Yes, the last dozen rows can drag but by then you are so close to having a finished object that even a procrastinator extraordinaire like me is inspired to push through until the magic moment of cast off.



Actually the magic moment with lace knitting is blocking, not cast off. It's quite amazing the way you take a crumpled bundle of knitted mess and stretch it out to reveal its lacy glory. I told you the story earlier of how I was on the verge of purchasing blocking wires but at the last minute bought a set of welding rods instead (again with the cheap, bargain, etc). These made the job far more enjoyable than using a million pins, several of which need adjustment every single time you walk past because you keep seeing the thing from a different angle.

This shawl was threaded with the welding rods (I love saying that), manhandled into position in a very short space of time and then gazed at adoringly for several hours by both myself and the dog and I did not once want to stick my head in the oven because of the gazillion little pins that need adjusting every single time you walk ... etc etc etc. The dog even laid his chin gently on the shawl as it dried and didn't prick himself once on a nasty pin, however he removed his head promptly when he saw me giving him The Look of Death from the kitchen.

Speaking of Looks, here is me giving what someone on flickr called "the knitwear model gazes into the distance at something far more interesting" look, but I call the "I have 3 seconds in which to press the self timer, leap back against the wall, readjust the shawl which has slipped off my shoulder during said leap, hold my arm back to appear less round shouldered than I really am and show off shawl to best advantage and all this means I have no time to smile or even look natural" look. Enjoy. And laugh. Because I might just delete it in the cold light of morning tomorrow when the red wine has worn off.



Vital statistics have been Ravelled.

I am overdue for a haircut.