I pulled all of my works in progress (WIPs) out and had a look at everything, and I seem to be stuck on Sleeve Island with my Ama Sweater. There’s nothing bothering me about it, I have just been busy with other knitting, but it reminded me that I haven’t shared this article that I wrote for Knitting Magazine last year. I hope it will make you smile…

Have you ever been there? Sleeve Island really is a magical place. Full of potential and beauty… and incredibly hard to leave.

I first arrived at the harbour on Sleeve Island back in February 2019. I had been knitting my Granito by Joji Locatelli for quite a long time, and I was so excited to have finally reached this important milestone in the progression of a sweater. The body was knitted, the pockets had been finished, and I had even picked up the neckband and completed that. All that stood between me and a finished jumper was a pair of sleeves. I was in great shape and dreaming of finishing my project in time to wear it at Edinburgh Yarn Festival. How many knitters push on through with the end of a large project when there’s a show coming up? It’s the perfect opportunity to share your delight in a new garment. Where else will so many people recognise the time and effort that went into your top? I couldn’t have been better placed to have a short week’s break on Sleeve Island and then I’d be back to the mainland, in Edinburgh, with my finished jumper.

I settled in, looked around, and realised that in order to work on Sleeve Island I needed to work out how many stitches to pick up around the armholes. So instead of pulling out some needles and getting on with it, I went for a wander along Thinking About It Beach. For a few weeks.

That island is so beguiling. The beaches are pretty, and there are so many spots to explore… Picking Up Stitches Creek. Adjusting The Length Hill. Oh My Goodness I Have To Do A SECOND ONE Cove?!?

And so Granito languished for a while. Or did it sunbathe? Whatever it was, I was on that island WAY longer than was strictly necessary. Edinburgh came and went, and my almost finished Granito sat in its project bag next to the sofa, feeling unloved.

Then one afternoon in May I heard it calling to me, and I pulled out the sweater and had a good look at it. Sometimes when a project drops off my knitting list it’s because there’s something wrong with it, and that’s part of what had happened here. I had noticed that the rib at the bottom hem was flipping up. It wasn’t bad enough for me to deal with it immediately, but just enough that I didn’t pick up the bag and work on those sleeves. So with a bit of encouragement from a knitting friend, I undid my cast-off edge and ripped back the ribbing. I found some smaller needles and redid the edging in just one afternoon of work. I had clearly been hanging out at Subliminally Unhappy With Something Lagoon. As it happens, I spend a lot of time there with one project or another, and I’m surprised at myself for not recognising the tell-tale signs. The water in that lagoon is ever so still – just like my needles!

With the hem fixed, I was spurred on and started to paddle along Picking Up Stitches Creek. Here’s a top tip – if you’re picking up stitches along the row-ends of a piece, pick up a stitch in every row. It will be too many stitches, but you get a much neater finish if you then decrease on the next row, rather than skipping some rows and picking up the correct number to start with.

I made it to the end of Picking Up Stitches Creek, only to realise that I needed to adjust the shaping to accommodate my long arms. As I sat at the bottom of Adjusting The Length Hill, I searched for the path through the undergrowth. It took a couple of days to think about it, but then I had a realisation… I could build my own path, by looking at how many stitches I needed to decrease, and how long I wanted my sleeves. I just had to work the decreases at set distances along the sleeve. Off I went, tape measure in hand, and conquered that hill. The view from the top was breath-taking. But what was that in the distance? Oh My Goodness I Have To Do A SECOND ONE Cove.

By now we were well in to May and I’d become comfortable in my surroundings. I was both enjoying Sleeve Island, and feeling slightly taken aback by still being there. The weather was warming up, and we all know that the trip back to the mainland is easiest in cool weather when the finished sweater will be a welcome wardrobe addition. Luckily my determination kicked in, and with only one sleeve to go and the path already worn by the first sleeve, I put on my hiking boots and got to work.

Oh My Goodness I Have To Do A SECOND ONE Cove was an ugly spot and much as I was exhausted by the thought of all those small rounds, I ploughed on. Turning the work each round of a sleeve, when you have the whole of the rest of an adult sweater hanging off your needles is no mean feat. Like all good explorers though, I know the benefit of the right equipment. In this case, all it takes is a small sealable bag. I shoved most of the knitted fabric into the bag, with just the part of the sleeve I required poking out of the top. Each round turned more easily, and I felt myself being drawn back to the harbour and looking out over the sea towards the mainland.

Not even that last bit of I’m None Too Keen On 1x1 Rib River was enough to put me off the last stretch of my stay on Sleeve Island. I fished out my smaller needles from my project bag and rowed on through.

One sunny evening in July – nearly five months after I had arrived – I boarded the boat back to the knitting mainland, proudly wearing my completed Granito Sweater. It was of course too hot, so I took it back off again almost immediately, and it’s now sitting patiently in the bottom drawer, waiting for some proper British summer weather, or autumn. Whichever comes first.