Dr. Jasmin is In

We all have Days. (You know, the kind Mama told you there'd be?) It's not fun or interesting to talk about those, so let's talk about something that never ceases to make me feel better.

Cashmere.

Do I have your attention?

Working with cashmere has scientifically been proven to lower your blood pressure. Even sitting in traffic, simply stroking a ball of cashmere is enough to soothe the ragiest of road ragers, and can get you out of a moving violation. ("I'm sorry officer, before you write that ticket, you should pet my ball of cashmere.")**

As we all know, stress is a killer. It's responsible for sleepless nights, weight gain, bad skin, and poor decision-making. (When was the last time you made a really *great* decision, stressed out of your skull? Think about it.) Also? I've never heard anyone say, "I really am regretting this cashmere _____."

Why? Because cashmere is never a regrettable purchase. I've never seen someone do the walk of shame back to the store after buying a cashmere garment. You know why? Because it never happens, unless it's to exchange it for the right size. Which is totally different.

I have some cashmere in my stash (all of which I've bought on sale) and I've knit a little bit of it here and there. During the Social Pressure Experiment, Chloe talked me into some hot pink cashmere (which wasn't hard to do at 50% off), and I have been waiting and waiting to cast it on.

After a day full of exciting, enriching, and character building challenges, I dove headfirst into my stash and cast on my Mariah. And then I knit a whole bunch, while reading my buddy Elizabeth "The Blizzard" Zimmermann, and then re-reading How to Knit a Love Song. (You should read it, especially if you're a fan of romance novels.)

Looks good, right?

I knit the body in about five seconds. (Up to the armholes anyway.) Time twists, bends, and loses it's meaning when you're working with cashmere. You don't need a sonic screwdriver, or a Doctor. Just some cashmere.

When I got to the armholes, I discovered something delightful. This is a yoke sweater! Before fall of 2009, I had never knit a yoke sweater before, and it turns out? I LOVE THEM. I love that you knit like 2/3s of each of the wretched sleeves, you join them to the body, et voilá!

The sweater you're knitting? Looks like a sweater is flowing off of your needles. It bears repeating, especially given how much of a thrill it gives me.

Speaking of wretched sleeves, Mariah's sleeves are still utterly charming. Clearly, either she is good at what she does, or we're still in the honeymoon phase because I simply can not get enough of these cables:

Yes, the color is accurate. Retina-searing pink!

They are truly potato chip knitting, in the purest sense. (When I was 16 years old, my mother first used the term "potato chip knitting" to describe turning cables.) I must be running a fever, because I am looking *forward* to the second sleeve. (These sleeves really have too much going on for me to knit them simultaneously. Also, I'm watching TV while I do it.)

The really amazing thing is that I have two sweaters worth of beautiful, luscious, soft handspun wool that are ready to cast on, and I can't be bothered to put down the cashmere and cast those on. I can hear you weeping for my predicament.

Please, don't weep for me. Just think, the next time you have the chance to buy cashmere on sale, "I'm prolonging my life."


** This is not true at all. It's science that I just made up. Feel free to post it to Wikipedia and cite me as your source. None of it is true, and you should never do anything you read about on the internet, especially my blog.

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