Knitting for a Queen

OK, so, I bought a knitting kit some years ago. By ‘some years ago’ I mean, “When dinosaurs roamed the earth.” Seriously. This thing has been at the bottom of the craft closet for the last, oh, five-six years. At least. And I just cleaned out the closet (in preparation for Stitches), and there it was, and I said to myself, “Hmm, I remember this…”

The pattern was (badly) photocopied out of a book – which is another rant altogether about yarn stores who think it’s perfectly OK to sell you a kit and say that it comes with ‘free’ pattern and then they STEAL the pattern out of a book. I don’t mind paying for the book, if it comes to that. I’m not poverty-stricken enough to think it’s OK to rob the designer of his/her royalties for his/her brilliance.

But that’s another rant for another day.

Anyway, on this photocopy, the picture was crummy and, wouldn’t-ja-know-it, the bottom paragraph had been cut off. Damn. But wait! What was this? Was this the name of the book it came from? Miracle of miracles, the yarn store lady had written it on the top of the photocopy: Knits for All Seasons by Jean Moss! Sweet!!

Hot dog. So I rush online and I find a copy of the book (which was a bit of a trick due to it having gone out of print) and I order it.

It arrived today, and I was stunned at what it was I was trying to make (hey, it’s been five years [or so], I’ve utterly forgotten how this thing was supposed to end up looking). And I rushed out online again to see if I could find a picture to share with you, which I did, and now I will: May Queen, by Jean Moss. Well, this picture actually kind of sucks. You should see it in the book. {swoon!} But you get the idea.

It will remain one of the enduring sorrows of my life that this kit is for up to a size 4.

My smallest girl now wears a size 5. By the time I finish knitting this thing, she’ll probably be a size 12.

Fortunately…I have friends with infant daughters. I should be able to finish it before they hit Size 4.

And if I don’t…there’s always granddaughters. Grand-nieces. Grand-friend’s-daughters.

Whatever.

Don’t care, as long as I get pictures…!