Great Scott!

Denise Scott tackles a trial of Olympic proportions.

This month I ...

gave myself a pep talk: “Scotty, for your mental health you must find a project – one that is calming, enjoyable and doesn’t involve drinking gin and tonic.” Sheesh! What to do?

I know! I’ll knit a double breasted, Fair Isle cardigan with cowl neck, for a loved one’s expectant baby. Yahoo! I mean what newborn doesn’t want to be seen in a cowl neck cardie?

Before you could say knit one, pearl one, pass the slip stitch over, I was clickitty-clackin’ like there was no tomorrow. To spur me on I imagined I was competing in an Olympic knitting marathon. Inside my head I heard Bruce McAvaney commentating: “Scott is off to a sensational start, flying along in rib stitch, but oh no, she’s taken a tumble in the Fair Isle section. She’s come to a complete halt. She’s swearing at her knitting book, yelling: ‘I don’t understand you, I feel like a fool, oh why doesn’t my brain work like it used to?’ It’s not looking good for Scott, who’s now lying in the foetal position.”

The point is, I got up and continued this pattern (excuse the pun) – of knitting, unravelling and starting again – until three weeks later when, in the words of Bruce: “Scott has finally made it into the stadium, exhausted but still knitting. The crowd is going berserk! We haven’t witnessed scenes like this since Switzerland’s Gabriela Andersen–Schiess famously wobbled to the finish line in 1984. The crowd’s on its feet, screaming for this fearless little trooper. They know it’s not about winning; it’s about fighting your demons and finishing what you started. As Scott casts off her final stitch, she crosses the line and holds her finished garment aloft. The crowd is roaring. ‘Bravo Scott. Bravo!’”

The teeny tiny cardigan is done and yes, I’m rapt. Just a shame the baby is due in the middle of summer.