Shawls are tricky projects. They start off first by giving you hope. It tricks you because at first, the knitting goes so quickly that you're making good progress. You can see the shawl growing in size as you are knitting. This gives you energy to keep knitting because you want to see it in its full, finished glory!
And then... and then you realise you are still knitting. You realise that shawls are liars. You're half way done and there are still yards upon yards of balled of yarn waiting for you, even a shawl like this which is made of leftover yarns. You keep knitting, and knitting, and knitting. Slowly, ever more slowly does the shawl grow. Soon it's taking you 15 minutes or a bit more to knit one lousy row. Now, you knit and can hardly tell how much you've accomplished in the past hour and a half because you only knit an inch! And still, you have several more balls of yarn, and the lower lacy border. That joy that the photo and pattern of the shawl is starting to dim because yep, shawls are liars.
Now instead of enthusiasm, you're asking yourself when will I actually finish this? You're wondering to yourself if it will actually be big enough because surely it should look bigger than it is now after what feels like weeks of knitting every day. As well, the knitting needles that you love in other sizes, now feel just slow, stodgy and wrong in your hands, like you chose the wrong needles. Maybe the aluminium needles would be better, or needles with better points, or rounded tips or better joins. And because these are convertible needles, you're also telling yourself you're thankful that they haven't broken because you just found 2 different sizes of this brand of needles broken in your needle bin, which doesn't inspire confidence when knitting down the home stretch of the stupid shawl.
Yep, shawls are tricky liars. The photographs hook you. They hook you into forgetting how much time it actually takes to knit a stupid shawl. They hook you into thinking this will be a fun and satisfying project It will of course be so in the end, but that will be mixed with some relief as you cast off the last of the 325 stitches you end up with when you're finally finished. Of course that is when you also realise that there are 250 stupid yarn ends to sew in before you're actually finished the shawl. But then it's done. You sigh in relief and are happy because it's pretty close to what you wanted.
Then, because you need a new project on the needles, because you realised that the shawl you just made won't work with the dress you ended up buying to wear to a wedding, you look through your stash, and look through pattern books, Ravelry, your friends projects and suddenly you find the perfect pattern for those skeins of yarn that have been insulating the craft room. It's this elegant, drapey, and quite perfect shawl! And so it starts again, the circle of the shawl: excitement, enthusiasm, the frustration, the boredom, the hopefulness of finishing and finally, the relief and satisfaction that you're done, before you start something like that again.
STUPID, TRICKY SHAWLS!
above photo - a simple shawl, using leftover yarns, some dyed and a brown that doesn't go with any other yarn that I have, Some might be handspun, one isn't for sure, but they were unlabelled because I went through a very long phase of thinking that I'd remember the fibre content, yardage and brand/ or sheep breed of every single skein of yarn that I have had over some ridiculous amount of years. I'm now labelling everything, or tucking in the ball band if it's commercial. It sure took me long enough to get into that habit.













