Knit Sisters

Here’s the bittersweet thing about being a carbon-based life form: mortality is 100%. The end may not be nigh, but it is sure as shootin’ coming down the tracks, just like the 4:05 train from Cleveland.

The mention of Cleveland brings to mind an illustrative joke, if you will indulge me for a moment. This was my great-grandfather’s favorite joke, in fact:

A man walks into the train station in Cleveland and steps up to the ticket window. “When,” he asks the ticket seller, “is the last train to New York?”

The ticket seller replies, “You should live so long!”

Life is short, and rail transport is long. Indeed, I have had more occasion to confront mortality here than I’ve been letting on. In mid-November, one of the owners of Woolcott for died unexpectedly. Niki had been, for most of her life, a very fine knitter and she had many friends in the knitting community in Boston. She had also been afflicted with a series of life-threatening health problems over the past two years or so, although she seemed in the last weeks of her life, ironically, to be making steady gains toward recovering her health. It is also only fair to say that Niki was often, well, difficult, as many of us mortals can be from time to time.

She died leaving a shocked yarn store staff, a grief-stricken family, many bereaved friends and customers, and a large stash of luxury fiber.

I do not wish to be flip or irreverent in any way about this very sad development. But if we accept (as really we must) that we will all one day pass on to our reward (however unpalatable this conclusion is), it may be worth thinking now about our legacy.

And could there be any better way of saying, even from the Great Beyond, “When you speak of me, speak kindly,” than bequeathing a generous stash of cashmere, cashmere-wool blends, silk-cashmere blends, and alpaca to your survivors?

Yarns shown are a representative selection and are in no way meant to be a comprehensive depiction of the complete luxury fiber legacy.

These yarns were also complemented by books:

I may have done something virtuous in my previous life of which I am unaware.

I feel more than a little undeserving of this serendipitous yarn windfall, which came to me because our generous store manager, Sean, decided to divide up Niki’s luxury fiber legacy among all the store employees. To ameliorate the sad circumstances under which I acquired, oh, say, roughly 12,000 yards of various wonderful fibers, my first resolution is that every time I knit with this yarn, wear a finished object made from this yarn, or give a gift of a garment knit from this yarn, I will invoke Niki’s memory and speak fondly of her contributions to the knitting world.

But I have also lit upon another way to realign my karma, if you will, and to ensure that Niki is remembered fondly by the largest number of people possible. And that is to send a large portion of this special yarn and a selection of the inherited books to my sister.

Sarah, your care package is on the way… And when you speak of Niki (and, heaven knows, me), speak kindly.

This entry was posted on Monday, December 4th, 2006 at 9:05 am and is filed under Wool gathering. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.