Picking up my knitting needles again and making Peasy was complex enough at first that there wasn't space in my mind to think: as I was knitting, I was absorbed by re-learning the stitches after eleven years and understanding the pattern. But after I'd finished the yoke, the lace motif and the sleeves, I had rows and rows of stockinette stitching for the body, and plenty of time to think.
It was then that it dawned on me that I was knitting a black cardigan, the same color as the very first sweater I ever knitted for myself when I was a teenager, with yarn that my grandmother, who considered black a color suitable only for funerals and elderly southern Italian widows, had bought me a little begrudgingly. Now, decades later, I realized, I was learning to knit in black once again. Ah, life's odd recurrences!
And making Peasy, I fell in love with knitting all over again.
