We lived in Scotland a while and went to Oban one day hoping to get to an island offshore. We missed the boat by moments and toured this lovely town, had lunch and found a knittery where local ladies knit fisherman’s sweaters for their husbands and others. I was lucky to find a dark pink hand-knit cardigan.
I’ve been saving it for years for special occasions and keep it safe in my closet. I’m wearing it now instead of a blanket. It makes me warm and cozy, oh, and rain-resistant. My husband doesn’t come back by sea, although we look out on one. He comes back by air and car. The wind determines his flight trajectory. but he’s driving up from another airport.
Yes, I’ve even written the shop a poem about it and the Fishermans’ sweater my mother knitted me when I was a kid. No-one in the family knows where it is. I’m wearing my pink cardigan from the Oban ladies now and am toasty warm. Thank you, all the knitters in my life from Scotland, New York and PDX-land. Dee