Remember when we first met, back in 2008? A beige version of you was displayed in the window of Loop, right down the street from my house. I kept looking at it every time I walked by, and finally decided that I needed to make one for myself. So I bought the yarn, in a beautiful green color called Pickle, and even though it took another year, I got started at last.
And I really enjoyed your company. Loved the yarn, the pattern was easy to remember once I got started, and I could make a fair amount of progress in any given evening. Sure there were fits and starts along the way, but we stuck with each other, and as time went by, I was sure we were meant to be together.
You may recall that I have not made many sweaters, and do not have the world's most accomplished finishing skills. But I was determined to make you a masterpiece. I even bought special buttons for you this past May at the Maryland Sheep & Wool festival.
It's true, I did ignore you for long stretches of time. But when I would come back, I always had the impression from you that it was OK. Real friends don't need to be in touch constantly, do they?
So I would like to know now, oh Pickle Cardigan, where did I go wrong? So much knitting, measuring, and blood, sweat, and tears, and you do this to me? I haven't gained any weight, and certainly not enough to make you suddenly so terribly small on me. I cannot bear to spend the time to finish you, adding on the neckline and button bands, because you have crushed my spirit. And I don't know why. Or how.
You. Are. Way. Too. Small. And I am really at a loss, because all along, you were acting as if you really were made for me. When did you change? Is it my fault? It must be, but I have racked my brain for days, and I cannot figure out how things went so poorly at the end.
Now we must part. I am no longer interested in you, and have no desire to take you apart and try to fix you. Perhaps another knitter somewhere will be interested in you and your extra skeins left over of yarn, either for another project, or to fit them. They are more than welcome to you. But we are done. Period.
Just so you know, though, you are not going to convince me that I cannot successfully knit a sweater for myself. Because I do not want you and the terrorists to have the satisfaction of winning forever.
I may be down, but I'm not out. I do, however, hope that you will be, and soon.
Failed Pickle Cardigan