The long-promised scarf ...

Four years ago, I attempted to make my beloved a scarf. In mid-December I purchased some grey yarn and 4.5mm knitting needles and truly believed that, with a friend's help, I could have the scarf ready for Christmas morning ...

Ten frustration-filled rows later, I sheepishly showed him the wristband I had achieved and promised him a scarf by the following Christmas. That was the plan. But other things got in the way and the bundle sat at the bottom of the wardrobe waiting to be played with again.

This year I took it out. This was the year. This was the Christimas. The long-promised scarf would be his.

Four frustration-filled rows later, I bought new yarn.

Big wooden knitting needles and thick, bright wool. Another friend willing to teach me.

Today, two frustration-filled rows later, said friend insisted I finish the ball of yarn before jumping to conclusions about my handiwork.

So, I'm going to keep knitting. Keep winding love into the tangled mess that resembles no scarf I've ever seen. Next week, my friend will help me decide whether I should start again.

And whatever the outcome, I'll just keep knitting until I've got a wearable scarf for stowing away until Christmas. Because if learning to knit so I can bestow woollen joy means facing appalling first attempts, I'm going to face them.

I'll even laugh at them as I unravel the yarn ...