Silk Scarf

"I just think that's pretty." Dave Matthews, Live at Radio City

Several months ago, a friend of mine on the RTH board on Ravelry was dealt some really life-altering, devestating news. (What that news was is something I will keep to myself to protect her privacy.)

She did what some women, including myself, tend to do as a coping mechanism (at least, when it's possible to do so): she went shopping. While shopping online she found some beautiful silk roving. Being a very accomplished spinner (as in, she does this as part of a way to make a living), she bought the roving, spun it into yarn, plied it into a beautiful bulky weight and felt (some) better after.

Now, what to do with this beautiful yarn? She said it wasn't particularly her colors or style, it just served its purpose in helping her cope. So about a month ago she sent it along with many other items in a care package for me. I don't think I put it down for hours; I walked around with the skein sticking out of my shirt so that I could feel it against my neck.

Which led me to what the yarn was to become. I was scared to wind it into a ball by myself, so the next time my BFF Nikki came home I asked her to bring her swift and ballwinder, and the two of us oh-so-cautiously wound the precious silk into a ball. Then, using a "pattern" suggestion from the Yarn Harlot (look at the entry for 10/12/06), I cast it onto size 15 (you read that right) needles and in a night and a little bit of a day, I had my scarf.

It's not long, just enough to wind around my neck once, a little bit of warm fashion in the cold indoors that Michigan always leads to. I wore it to work the other day and while I think it's the most beautiful thing in my wardrobe, there are those who hardly noticed it. That's fine. This was a gift from Alice to me, and I know when the time comes I may pass it on so that it can share its warmth with someone else. But for now, this silk has warmed my heart and my neck, and I am so thankful that when I feel it around me it's like getting a hug from a friend--spun in sorrow, passed on in love, wound with care, and knitted with hope. A truly hand-made object.