Cashmere and Corsets

AH, My sister's wedding grows closer. I have decided to ditch knitting her the cashmere shawl. She wouldn't appreciate it. And she certainly wouldn't understand the amount of time that would have gone into it.

So I'm knitting a cardigan for ME to wear to her wedding instead. She has proclaimed that she must approve it before hand. "Because she doesn't want anything tacky." So, she thinks I'm tacky? Or knitting is tacky?

Lace weight cashmere cardigan in cream. Ecologically friendly cashmere. I don't think it is possible to MAKE it tacky on purpose. Now, if I wanted to be tacky, I would knit a nice Merry Widow in something like yellow with red hearts. With fun fur. And bedazzle the nips. But I will be wearing it under the dress, so I could actually go as tacky as I want in that area. Provided there is no wardrobe malfunction. But if there was, the look on her face would be priceless.

Ah, screw it. The belittling digs and barbs I've been getting will disappear when she wants to rip the cardigan off my body to wear herself. In the mean time, I have a wonderful friend who lets me unload my emotional bull on him and then cheers me up with a hug, even if he is thousands of miles away. And he'll make sure to protect my person and cardigan from cashmere thieves. Because that is just the sort of guy he is. :)

What was I thinking?!

So I awoke early this morning. A morning I have off and get to sleep in. A morning where my cat insists that 5am is a good time to get attention. After a struggle to hide under the covers from the puffer, I climbed out of bed, because there was really no use pretending I was going to get sleep. Besides, I have holiday knitting to do.

As I sat with my coffee, a bizarre urge took hold of me. Even after my last post on shopping this time of year, I decided I would do what I have never done before: I went shopping at the crack of dawn on Black Friday.

I got the car parked. I even managed to get into the store. And that is where I fade out. Head spinning and hyper-ventilating, I was not made for this. One nice woman asked me if I was okay and needed some help. If I could just step out of line in front of her, she would call someone over to help. I vaguely recall making it to my car where I could finally start to breathe again. I seem to recall my mother used to have this reaction shopping. I wonder if it's inherited. I made it home with out buying a thing. Later in the day I ventured out once again and visited the one sanctuary that I knew no ill effects would grasp me: the local yarn shop (LYS) "Never Enough Yarn."

I bought wool strictly to be added to my stash. Simply because I realized that I don't have a stash I can shop. Everything in it was ear marked for a specific project. Whether the project ever actually gets done is another story. I also picked up some lace-weight cashmere to make a bridal shawl for my sister.

This then shows you exactly how big of a toll the morning's foray cost me and my mind. Am I FREAKING NUTS??!! A lace shawl out of cashmere? I have truly set myself up for a masochistic endeavor. IF I actually finish this thing (hopefully outside of a mental ward) I doubt my lovely sister will even realize the difficulty of the project, or the cost I plunked down today for the cashmere yarn itself. This thing better be a protected heirloom or I'll use it to strangle her.



After all, cashmere is a fairly strong fiber.