The Sweater Goes to England

The Sweater. The stuff of legend. I read somewhere the other day about how women in some knitting traditions would not start knitting their "betrothed" a sweater until the day the wedding date was set. This may be the origin of the sweater curse.

I no longer fear the sweater curse. Ryan loves the sweater. He wore it a lot while he was home. I had to wash it before he left (that was a lot of fun...wet hand-knit sweaters are HEAVY). He's picked out others with scary things like pockets and collars. He's not going anywhere. He knows that he's spoiled rotten. He might even get some socks if he's a good boy.

My family had to be told during Thanksgiving dinner that it was The Sweater. They hadn't even noticed. I'm assuming that is a testament to my skill and not a commentary on their powers of perception.

I think it looks pretty good!