If 2020 was a shawl

If 2020 was a shawl it would have a story worth telling, where every stitch would encapsulate a year unlike any other.

It would be made of yarn grown entirely on my farm, the rare suri alpaca. A lovely fiber that was created just for shawls because of its inherent and excellent drape. But even then, the 2020 shawl would emerge from the last and unmistakably most average of all fleeces within my herd because, well, that’s all I had left when the time came. Meager beginnings, hailing from two of my most acclaimed alpacas…

First from Sugar, who is anything but!

Thanks in part to her checkered past, she is wary of being trapped. When faced with the slightest confinement, she will barrel right though you as she has done to me on a number of occasions.

Oh yes, being stuck inside anywhere, even just momentarily, be it a cozy stall or 10 wide-open acres, Sugar can feel the restraint in every inch. From tip to tail, that fear of hers clings to every fiber within her fleece…which fits aptly for the 2020 shawl.

But her fleece alone would not a shawl make, she needs the help of another, like all of us in here in 2020.

And that support would come from Rocky Balboa, the little alpaca that could, named after everyone’s favorite underdog.

Rocky was born in 2015 to a mother who nearly died half way though her pregnancy. Sadly, she did not make it through 2020, but her stunted little Rocky continues on. Despite his size, he holds his own, causing ruckus as if he doesn’t even know. And if 2020 was a shawl, who wouldn’t want to wrap themselves in that kind of spirit?

If 2020 was a shawl, every ounce would be richly connected to the land. A terroir of it’s own, here in our little slice of wine country.

Oh yes, if 2020 was a shawl, she’d be entirely produced and milled within one singular county, by humble, hardworking Walla Walla hands. That’s not something you can say for textiles these days. But if 2020 was a shawl, she’d be home grown and home bound step of the way.

If 2020 was a shawl, her color would come from nature’s most coveted hue - indigo - an iridescent azure to match the skies we all sit under, miles and light years apart.

But indigo has been tricky and fickle. I’ve tried for years to summon her ancient shades - a hurdle at every juncture, from seed to harvest and into the kettle - never once a speckle of blue.

Yet something was happening in the cosmos, in this of all years. Seeds sprouted with ease, becoming tiny hope-filled plants and then a boastful stand…

A complicated chemistry laid there within her leaves, known to our ancestors across the millennia, and finally to me in 2020.

The stems I tended to all season, had to be blended into smithereens to be of any good, so very 2020. A frothy vat of churned up guts, the updated Pantone Color of the Year!

But to come out the other end, you must go all in, as I learned in earnest this year!

So with a dash of blind faith and a whoosh of fresh air, the color really did come right out of the blue!

A visual reminder at how swiftly life can change, you can be pulled from one realm into the next. The same but completely anew.

And if 2020 was a shawl, it would be knit of simple lace, to keep you warm in winter and soft in spring.

Sprung from a pattern that was once as tricky as indigo, it would come together quickly, almost all at once, the produce of solitude and steadied hands.

If 2020 was a shawl, the finished fabric would be true to type - a few lumps and a few bumps, a tailored mix of struggle and triumph.

But mostly, it would just be complete.