I cast-on during a weekend trip to a local hot springs with the Sweetie Pie. I sat in our cabin at the rough-hewn log dining table, watched the sheep in the pasture outside the window, and counted stitches. I sipped hot tea and the baby slept in his swing.

I knitted the entire body on our drive home, the tires spinning and the wiper blades icing over as we crossed the Continental Divide. I averted my eyes from the cars skidding wildly off the road, focused on the endless rows of stockinette and repeated to myself “Just keep knitting, just keep knitting….” The baby snuggled deep in his carseat under a mound of blankets, and obligingly slept away the storm.


At home, I stumbled over the sleeves, which required some focus and counting of stitches. Between the bustling household and the baby that needs so much cuddling and holding, I had to knit, and unknit, and knit again in short ten minute sessions.

I picked up season one of The Paradise from the library. The baby kicked his legs next to me on the couch as I breezed through the yoke of owls and we watched love and commerce in Dickensian England unfold on my laptop.


As I completed the short rows and ribbed collar, I held my breath. I prayed my yarn would multiply like loaves and fishes. And when I cast off there was only six inches of yarn to spare. I snipped it off and put it into the baby’s chubby fist. He looked at it quizzically, and then tried to shove it (along with his entire fist) into his mouth.

I put the baby down for a nap and spent a blissful hour sorting through Great-Aunt Virgie’s tin of vintage buttons. Fingering my way through the contents, I found the most. perfect. pair to make two little owl eyes. I sewed them on, stopping only twice to put the baby back to sleep.


And now, I watch the snow fall quietly out the window, show the baby his new sweater, lay it on top of him and try to picture him wearing it a year from now. He kicks his feet enthusiastically. My mother’s intuition tells me he approves of it. I fold it gently and tuck it away for next winter, when we’ll bring out the sweater and all the memories that have been knit into it.

** Pattern and yarn details are found on my Ravelry page, here