On September 11, 2001, I was sitting in the construction site that would become the Fun Apartment, biting my cuticles and listening to the radio. Tired of watching me shred the bloody bejesus out of my fingernails, The Mr. handed me some orange yarn and knitting needles. I started a scarf. There was a lot of stressful news coverage around that time, so I finished my September 11th scarf before the War in Afghanistan was finished. Oh. Wait. . . .
Anyway, I finished the scarf fairly quickly, but promptly lost it wandering around Camden Market in London. I believe I was more hungover than jet-lagged, but I can’t be sure.
On September 11, 2011, I started the scarf again. And I finally finished it. This week. Look, here it is:
There are larger, more poignant metaphors to be drawn here, but as I was knitting both scarves, I had a sense of time passing, of tragedy moving further away while still leaving a trail behind it. And I felt the palliative power of making something.