We Mourn the Loss of Rebecca

You are not suffering from some sort of blog déjà vu, this post is a re-run, or what is referred to in TV-speak as an 'encore' edition. Not that anyone was actually requesting an encore, mind you. (Thanks to Mrs. G for the idea!)

I felt the need to move yesterday's post down a bit and even though I'd love to engage in a bit of procrastiblogging today, there are a number of demands on today's schedule that aren't optional. Not to mention that we are still catering to the needs of a very sick small dog here at Casa del Chaos (and trust me, that's as much as you really want to know on that topic! If you thought yesterday's post was disgusting - but I digress).

Thank you for stopping by today, please, sign the guest book on the table, and tissues are to the side just there.

Frogged but not forgotten

Today we gather to recognize the short yet meaningful existence of Rebecca, whose lovely olive-toned Silk Road Aran countenance will be sorely missed.

Despite a promising cast-on, Rebecca struggled to overcome multiple knitting challenges in her short life.

Rebecca’s designer and friend, Jo Sharp, remembered her as,

"A women’s fitted sweater with a cable panel at the centre front. Suitable for a knitter with some cable experience."

Her voice caught a bit at the memory.


Rebecca returns to the skein before her time, an innocent victim of sizing errors, inadequate swatching and knitter dissatisfaction. She was a model of sweater forbearance, never growing discouraged by the multiple froggings she received, though her plies grew thin in several places from the experience. She resisted drowning her troubles in Eucalan, instead choosing to spend her last months with quiet dignity, hiding in disgrace in a paper sack in the basement corner.

Rebecca strongly believed that the fibers of our beings continue on beyond one’s own limited existence and she expressed a desire to be reincarknitted* as a well-loved pullover or perhaps a cardigan (though preferably not as socks).

Rebecca leaves behind a grieving knitter, Denise, who despite vehemently expressing an inability to even think about knitting another sweater anytime soon, was later observed reaching out in her grief to her long ignored stash yarn.

Skein to skein, hank to hank

As yarn we are born and to yarn we return.

RIP…RIP…RIP, dear Rebecca

*Reincarknitting is a is a central tenet for the followers of yarnma. I think it conflicts with a belief in the concept of original spin, but I am not as familiar with that yarnology.