Brenda Dayne’s Cast On is my favorite of all knitting podcasts. I listened to her latest edition (Episode 31) yesterday while unpacking dishes in my grandmother’s new kitchen. (G-ma sold her San Diego home four months ago and moved north, 10 minutes away from me.) I was a little disappointed not to hear a “Today’s Sweater” and so I started thinking about how many sweaters I have actually completed. Which then led to the first sweater I did complete.
I married a man, now known as “Jackass,” in 2003. Brand new to the knitting world, I had heard of the Boyfriend Curse and even researched it to confirm that it really did exist. I figured The Curse didn’t apply to me anymore since I had a ring on my finger and a wedding certificate. I haughtily thumbed my nose at The Curse and picked out a sweater pattern for my husband. After weeks of hunting on Ebay, watching and waiting, I collected the requisite twenty-three balls of charcoal gray Debbie Bliss wool.
Knitting him a sweater beyond my current skills was a loving gesture on my part. That’s how I show my love for people. I may not gush with platitudes, hearts and flowers but I’ll make you bread from scratch – knit you socks – or write you snail mail on a notecard I created. Making things with my own hands is something I believe to be one of my better (quieter) attributes. Gifting people with something I make is how I say I love you.
So knitting my first cable turtleneck sweater for my newly betrothed was quite ambitious in terms of loving gestures. I did a swatch (I think) and cast on. And I knit and knit and knit for days on end. And I enjoyed every minute of it. Even the miles of stockinette. Each stitch was so sweetly formed. I nailed the cables after a few attempts, attached the sleeves, picked up stitches for the turtleneck and commenced blocking. I thought it was perfect.
Until he tried it on. And the dark gray knitted sweater came to his knees. I laughed and decided I would take it apart and redo it (redo the months of knitting – painful? Yes). Since warm weather was upon us when I finished it, I stuffed the sweater into a bag and told myself I would frog it later.
Winter came, then went and spring was almost here when I finally discovered devastating written proof of his infidelity. Faster than you can say “Moving van”, I was packed up and out of the house. My needles and yarn were the first things in the truck. Including the gray behemoth.
Now in my quiet house, the warm summer months arrived in my new grief. As if a zombie took over my body, I dug out the canvas bag that contained the one project I had completed for someone else. Carefully, I undid my seams, wrapped the kinky yarn around the back of kitchen chair and tied the hanks off. In my guest bathroom, I soaked the hanks individually in water, stretched gently to unhinge the kinks and laid each one on old towels to dry. Twenty-three balls of pricey yarn became no name merino and my soul felt less heavy.
The warmth of the season helped speed the drying of the wool. I wound each hank with my swift and ball winder ( a letsgetyourmindoffthings gift from my mother, also a knitter) and tucked each cake of wool into plastic bags with a proper label on the outside of each bag. The plastic bags currently sit on the closet shelf of my guest bedroom, staring at me, invisibly tagged “Jackass Yarn.” Even though undoing the sweater helped me take one more step forward and frogging a sweater appears to be less painful than frogging a marriage, it’s really not. I’ll never forget what that yarn was purchased for.
And about The Curse? It’s only true if you believe it.
Heartfelt and emotional. Very nicely written, Kim.
You’re a great writer =) I’d be tempted to get rid of the yarn entirely, just because of the emotional baggage that goes along with it…I do the same thing, attaching memories to yarn or songs or movies, all the things I enjoy, really. But in the end, you’re still way better off without Jackass.
Definitely better without the jackass.
Adam never wore sweaters. He wore shorts in New England winters for as long as possible, eventually changing to jeans, but never sweaters. So finally, he said he’d like a hat. And I began to knit it for him, with green and grey cashmere yarn, and he died before I had finished it.
And it’s still sitting in the basket. And i’ll turn it into a couple of chemo caps and donate them.
So, maybe… knit up some hats and scarves and mitten sets with it, and send them to a battered women’s shelter. That’s what I’d do. Other woman have other jackasses and remember it could be worse. Put the yarn to good use, give it a positive spin and get it the hell outta your closet.
XX
I was married for 8 years to a guy before I ever knit him a thing. I finally decided that the curse no long applied to me. I knit him a pair of socks and a sweater in the course of a few months. Less than a year later, we were divorced. I am not superstitious, but DAMN! I sold off all the yarn I had purchased to make him things, but I still have that sweater. It is just missing a collar, but I can’t finish it and I can’t frog it. I just wadded it up in a ball, stuffed it in a bag and hid it. I have moved on since my divorce. But I still keep that one little symbol of grief hidden away in my closet, literally.
I think you should give the Jackass yarn to charity! Get that JA right out of your life!!
I love Annie’s idea – and your writing about this. Knitting for people we loved who are now gone, in many different ways, is hard.
I’m with Annie too! Turn it into something beautiful, meaningful, helpful to others. Chemo hats, Warming blankets, anything to help someone else. Show others the great person you are, and don’t let the memory of him hold you back. He doesn’t deserve it.
If only you could knit an actual Jackass out of the yarn…
I especially relate to the “hand-made gifts are how I show love” thing. Have you read The Five Love Languages by Gary Chapman? Totally changed my life.
I don’t know if I would be able to keep the yarn. I’d probably donate it to charity. I remember way back when first posted about the jerk. It’s wonderful to read how far you’ve grown & are definitely so much better off without him. I agree about the curse being true only if you believe it.
Wonderful post. I kind of have a similar situation. Jackasses come in every age.
Four years ago, I was blindsided the the sudden end of my 27 year marriage. I didn’t even see it coming, although in retrospect, I should have. By now, I have made a new life (sort of) – I graduated from college as a nurse, I have my wonderful kids, etc. Last spring, while cleaning out my closet, I found the Aran sweater I knitted for him – I haven’t decided what to do with it.. I think I may just donate it to goodwill or something. I don’t think I could frog it and knit with the yarn.
As for yours, if you can’t knit with it, you could donate the yarn, or sell it on ebay and donate the proceeds to your favorite charity.
Good luck to you.
I just stumbled upon your blog. Good stuff.
Another (less altruistic) idea for the Jackass yarn: if it is really nice yarn, sell it on ebay and use the money to treat yourself and a friend to a fabulous dinner somewhere, an expensive bottle or wine, or put it in your vacation/house/whatever fund.
Hi! Just wanted to let you know that this submission made it into this month’s Yarnival! You can view the issue on my blog. Thanks for submitting! Have a GREAT DAY!
I love your writing. Thanks for submitting and sharing this in Yarnival. I have to say that I agree with Annie (above) but it’s hard to let go of a symbol of grief. It’s almost as though it’s a trophy of the hard times and evidence that you’re stronger than the JA. Right on.
Of course, everyone needs to grieve in their own way, and giving the yarn away is a good idea too (so is going out to dinner on it!), but given its heavy symbolic weight, I would do something more direct. I’d re-knit it into the most fabulous, gorgeous, luxurious sweater in the world for YOURSELF – the kind of sweater you’re not sure you can make, from a pattern you’ve been dreaming about, which will fit you (and only you) absolutely perfectly. Transform all that time and love and care that had once been put into someone who wasn’t worth it into a gift for the person who is absolutely worth every lovely stitch – you! I could see that as a way of reclaiming yourself — and your pride and trust and love — all the things that that ruthless jackass carelessly (and stupidly) threw away. He didn’t deserve them, so take them back and make them YOURS again.
It’s just my personal opinion that being betrayed so monumentally and so personally requires some downright selfish therapy (selfish in the best possible sense, merely meaning entirely for yourself) as well as the more altruistic kinds (which are also good for making you feel better about how many great people there are in the world, who know how to appreciate a handknit!)
Whatever you do with the yarn, know at least that you didn’t waste any *more* of your life on that worthless pig – you’re free now of bullshit! Hurrah!
Hmm, hmm…
how much do you want for that yarn? I need something like it for a sweater for my…DAD!
Dye it pink and knit something fun. Or whatever color you would like and wouldn’t remind you of him. Take it as a symbol of your new life without the baggage.
Felted bags are cool. You could always felt it by hand
Thanks for sharing your story. I agree with Kate. Make yourself something incredibly fascinating! (Then go find yourself something sweet
I’m torn between the two extremes – donate/sell it as is – the less handled the better but that last comment – now really – wouldn’t it be great to turn “jackass” into something you love!
You will know what to do with the yarn when you get there. You are a wonderful writer and the eponymous Jackass really blew it.
I’m so glad your post was included in Yarnival.
Thank you all for your comments.
I think I am going to have to get rid of it. As much as I want to turn it into something gorgeous for myself, I just can’t bring myself to touch it.
I was sad to read your story. But take heart, not all men are jackasses. I knit my husband a gansey last year after 7 years of marriage. This year’s sweater is Durrow. We’re still happily married and expecting our first child.
Have faith that a sweaterworthy good man will come along who’ll send the curse packing! Meanwhile, do get rid of the jackass yarn and the bad karma associated with it.
I found you through Yarnival as well. Love that idea, and I’m glad you submitted this!
I agree with all the people who have said that you should find a way to get rid of it. If you can’t bring yourself to reknit it into something else, then it would probably feel pretty good to either give it directly to someone who would, someone who doesn’t have a history with it, or to donate it somewhere. Good yarn shouldn’t be wasted, but it’s perfectly understandable if you aren’t able to use it yourself.
Donate the yarn and get it out of your life, hon’ – like Jackass! On the other hand, I don’t really believe in the Curse. Maybe sometimes people have knit a little too early in the relationship – before they know what the fellow would actually wear or whether the relationship would last. In my case I’ve made a number of sweaters over the years for my guy. The sweaters are worn out but we’ve been together for 38 years (married for 35)! Guess it’s time to knit him a new sweater soon.
What a truely well-written story. Kudos for being a strong woman and moving on! But that’s a lot of yarn to keep stashed away with those memories.
My suggestion? Remember those toilet tank cozies from the 80’s with the matching seat covers? How about a nice charcoal grey set for the guest bathroom?? …with cables
What a nicely written post. I definitely believe in the curse. I knit things for 3 boyfriends and either got bored with them shortly after or they freaked out. I didn’t even know about the curse at the time. Do something positive with the yarn. Donate it. Or burn it in effigy… though yarn doesn’t burn so well. Ebay it and buy yourself something with the proceeds.
that wool has a much better use, I don’t knit for ungrateful cads, but sometimes you cant see in advance if they are or not. E-bay or knitters review yarn swop?
stella