In our last episode, the Wartybobbler had (almost) a week to
design and knit a warm yet cool hat for her son (who is studying abroad) which
was to be sent along with her daughter (who was flying to London to visit the
son – which, oddly enough, sounds like something Pussycat, Pussycat did in a
nursery rhyme, but we digress).

And so, TA-DA, we present The Hat That Went To London!

(modelled by a family member who is not in London and who wishes to remain anonymous)

I thought I might write about the agonies I go through as I
try to get a hat to fit “just right.” 
And the inexplicable irony that one can walk into a department store and
buy a hat marked “men’s” and it will fill any guy well enough – but try to knit
a hat specifically for a guy even if you have a good idea of his head
measurement and can try it on a variety of family members who also have heads
(which you can pretty much guess are slightly smaller or slightly larger than
that of the intended recipient)….Well, Sarah says that store-bought
machine-made hats are stretchier. 

Anyhow, I only had to rip back the hat twice. 

Once when I, knitting it in the round, apparently failed to
“join being careful not to twist” and had a charming wool mobius going.  And since I had to start over anyhow, I
flapped about in agonies over the size and added cast-on stitches (which
turned out to be the right thing to do – so I forgive the mobius). 

Once when I had finished the hat and started trying it on
random family members.  And it was too
short. 

Okay, except on Gwen!

 Grrrrrr.  This was
Monday night and I had been feeling almost smug because I (thought I had)
finished 24 hours before the hat was due to fly to London. Sarah actually ripped it back for me
and I worked on it that evening (after we taught our knitting class) until I
was too tired to continue. 

So, there I was Tuesday afternoon, madly knitting away —
gritting my teeth and glancing at the clock. 
The usual routine.  And 20 minutes
before we had to leave for the airport, I cast off and wove in the ends.  And we stuffed it onto the head of the
nearest family member we could find (who wishes to remain anonymous) and took a
few pictures.

And then, The Hat Went To London! 
In the “ta-da” knick of time.  As
usual.