A Pattern for the Teapot-Duck
By Bet deMallard
Being Instructions for the Knitting of Certain Rainbow Hues Which, Under Proper Conditions of Tea-Consumption, May Suggest the Form of a Duck and in the manner of certain 18th-century artisans who believed that craft and madness were separated by no more than a single cup of strong tea.
Materials Required
- One (1) teapot of standard capacity, preferably ceramic, though metal will suffice if sufficiently warmed by repeated applications of hot water
- Wool in the following colours: red, orange, yellow, green, blue, violet, and that elusive seventh shade which appears only when the kettle has whistled exactly three times
- Two (2) knitting needles of size appropriate to the wool, or alternatively, one (1) needle and one (2) fingers of the left hand, providing said fingers have been steeped in tea for no less than forty minutes
- A measure of tea sufficient to fill approximately six (6) cups, though the exact quantity shall vary according to the humidity of the room and the philosophical disposition of the knitter
The Beginning
Cast on seven stitches, representing the seven colours of the rainbow, though do not count them, for counting shall render them permanent, and we require them to remain suggestive rather than definitive.
Begin with the red stitch, which should be knitted with such enthusiasm that it reminds you of morning sun upon a particularly optimistic duck. Do not actually look at a duck. The mere idea of a duck, gathered from second-hand accounts and the faint memory of a shape seen through tea-stained glass, is preferable .
The Rainbow Progression
Orange follows red, but only if the knitter has consumed at least one cup of tea. Should no tea be available, the orange shall appear pale and uncertain, much like a duck that has forgotten whether it intends to swim or fly.
Yellow requires two cups of tea. At this stage, the knitter may begin to perceive the emerging form, though it will remain indistinct, resembling more a cloud that has considered becoming a bird than an actual duck.
Green demands three cups. The stitch shall now possess a certain aquatic quality, as though the wool has been dipped in pond water and subsequently dried upon the back of a duck that exists only in the knitter's increasingly tea-fogged imagination .
Blue requires four cups and the singing of a single note, though the note may be hummed if the knitter's throat has been softened by tea. The blue stitch shall resemble the sky above a duck pond on a day when the duck has not yet decided to appear.
Violet demands five cups and the recitation of a single nonsense word, preferably one that sounds like "duck" when spoken through a mouthful of tea leaves. At this stage, the form shall become almost discernible, though any observer of sober mind will insist it remains merely a Mu-coloured cloth of no particular shape.
The Seventh Colour
The seventh colour, being that which appears after six cups of tea and the whistling of the kettle thrice, shall not be knitted but rather imagined. The knitter should hold the needle aloft, stare into the middle distance, and permit the seventh stitch to materialize in the space between reality and tea-induced suggestion.
This stitch, being imaginary, cannot be counted, measured, or verified by any person who has consumed fewer than seven cups of tea. Its existence remains purely potential, much like the duck-shape that the entire piece is designed to suggest without actually achieving.
The Finishing
Bind off all stitches with a gentle motion, as though releasing a duck back into the pond from which it emerged in the knitter's mind. Do not pull too tightly, for the binding-off shall render the form too definite, and we require the piece to remain ambiguously duck-like.
Leave the work unfinished at the edge, for a truly complete duck-shaped teapot cover would contradict the entire philosophical purpose of thispattern.
The Important Note Regarding Tea-Consumption
Should the knitter consume fewer than six cups of tea, the finished object shall remain merely a rainbow-coloured cloth of no discernible shape, which may be draped over a teapot with reasonable success but shall not suggest the form of a duck to any observer of clear mind.
Should the knitter consume exactly six cups of tea, the object shall begin to suggest duckness, though any attempt to identify it as an actual duck shall result in the knitter's insistence that "one simply must have had more tea to see it properly."
Should the knitter consume seven or more cups of tea, the object shall appear to be a duck to the knitter alone, though all other persons will continue to observe it as merely a rainbow cloth. The knitter, in this state, may proceed to pour additional tea upon the object, claiming that the duck has now "become real" through the application of sufficient liquid encouragement.
The Final Instruction
This pattern, having been followed correctly, shall produce an object that is not a duck-shaped teapot cover, but rather a teapot cover that might become duck-shaped if one had drunk sufficient cups of tea. The impossibility of this condition is the entire point of the pattern, and any knitter who attempts to make the object actually duck-shaped shall have failed to understand the philosophical purpose of the exercise.
The duck remains, as it always shall be, in the tea.
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