My Fair Isle vest has survived an NDE (Near Death Encounter). I don’t know if it saw a tunnel made of white light with worn out socks awaiting on the other side beckoning it through. I know I cursed a blue streak and saw red.

I took out my beloved Ivy League vest with a button. It was the button of my equally beloved white button down shirt. I’m not sure the two will ever speak again. They may just wear themselves next to each other in mute rejection. I may look quite rumply in what used to be a very smashing get up.

The button of my sleeve caught in the floats, and while I thought I had managed to ease it out and back through without catching, the 4 inch long piece of yarn that suddenly sprouted from the arm hole told the tale. I had ripped it clean out of the surrounding stitches.

The next 1/2 hour was a high wire act filled with little itty, bitty crochet hooks, tapestry needles, yarn, sweat and SPIT! Yes spit, for spit splicing. Something JustJen taught me at the Blue Moon De-Stashing sale. Something Jamieson’s Spindrift lends itself to. In fact if the sweater were made from some other, slipperier yarn (is that even a word?), we would not be having this conversation. I would have just put Ivy League vest in a casket and buried her.

I’m not done yet. I ripped the very edge of the armhole too. Something I haven’t had the patience or presence of mind to deal with. The original fix was enough knitting excitement to keep me for a few days.

Back to work today, blech!

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