A package arrived yesterday morning with my name on it. It was clearly from my mother - I recognized the cursive handwriting that can only come from a person of a certain generation. It was a sizable box, well wrapped against any wintery elements. Yes, it was! It was the completed Marcel's Sweater! My poor, dear mother, in her eight decade of life, took on this sweater as a generous gift to her daughter. She didn't realize how generous until, a year later, she was still knitting it (and now, cursing it). But she perservered, as if to give in to the lapses in its design and particularly, its instructions, would be a sign of moral weakness. No weakling, she! She may be the only person to ever complete it, but complete it, she did.
Have a look:
It fits perfectly!
And, just to take the edge off, she also knit me up a pair of socks using a skein of yarn I purchased in Berlin last March.
A new sweater AND gorgeous handknit socks. My cup runneth over! Thanks Mom!