The scarf trudges forward. Yeah verily, though I knit through the shadow of the Doctor, and all that there is and will ever be is garter stitch, let me tell you that there is nothing about this project that makes me want to flinch hard away and knit a freakin’ hat like Saddle Tan.
Saddle Tan is the dark beige in this scarf. I hate it.
I hate it with a passion that makes me want to paint my body a bright turquoise and put yellow ochre gems in my hair just to fight back against the swelling, nondescript oh-please-try-harder-to-be-a-colour awfulness that is Saddle Tan.
I know several things about this colour. I know it’s important that it is in the scarf. I know that it belongs there, and that like spiders, it is an important but loathsome part of this ecosystem. I know that like you need to add salt to cut the sweetness in cookies, and like the way you wouldn’t know happiness if you were never sad, I know that Saddle Tan is the ying to the the other colours yang. I know too that some bad things are good things, like some plants need an environmental trigger to reproduce, like pyriscence – where not only is a fire not bad for the tree, it’s the only way more trees can come about. I know all that, and I know that in the grand and harmonious saga that is this scarf, Saddle Tan is vital, and lovely, and perfect and that the scarf would be nothing without it.
I also know that Saddle Tan is absolutely the colour of every soul-sucking basement apartment I have ever been in, and I just want you to know that if I flip the frak out while I’m knitting this, it will be because there were 22 ridges of Saddle Tan in a row.