The Cardigan Refused to Be Finished Part 3

(Parts 1 and 2 can be found in earlier posts) I knew I was doomed because the moment I saw the color only one word came to my mind, "ick!" Taupe is the less than attractive step-sister of beige and it is completely against my nature. I like to knit with bright, bold, and saturated colors. I enjoy yarn whose color makes you drool with desire to wear it. When I had previously knit things for my sis, they were in beautiful greens or deep merlot. She is a gorgeous woman with a taste for good clothing, and the one time I offer a sweater she manages to pick the color that I would never have even considered touching unless it was for a dish rag. I will admit the color does have one advantage; taupe matches everything. Even though black can achieve the same advantage taupe is lighter and less stark simply because it has not personality of its own. Bemoaning my own stupidity and quietly cursing my fickle sibling I began to search for yarn. I decided knitpicks was my best option due to my limited funds. My sister had requested that the cardigan be light enough to wear around in spring, but heavy enough that she could potentially wear it in the cooler months. Keeping this in mind, I settled on knitpicks Cotlin in the colorway Cashew. It was the right weight, machine washable, and the linen would give it a nice drape while the cotton would keep it from being too warm. I went ahead and ordered the stuff and prayed that it would less yucky in person. No such luck, but the die was cast. 

Peace in frogging

So I just spent the last half hour frogging three inches of knitting. Although this may not sound like a great feat, you might reconsider that position when I tell you that it was about 140 yards worth and 6004 stitches. Yes, I just had to frog an entire ribbing of a sweater. The stitches got so hopelessly twisted that there was no saving it. It is strange that I do not find myself upset when I have to frog things, or even when I have to start things over in general. I remember when I used to take private art lessons, my teacher would sometimes advise me to go back into the piece and recreate a certain technique that I had already created on another part of the work. Daunting as recreation is, I always said, "If I did it once, I can do it again." With this in mind I have faced many starts and stops with a strange sense of patience, especially in knitting. I find that the aspect of frogging is far more vexing than actually making the decision to do it. In the case of this work, I came to a couple realizations that I would not have discovered had this initial error not occurred.

1. Even though this sweater is a massive project, I was able to keep up with directions and maintain the correct stitch count. I have a big problem with phantom stitches when I do large projects. However, I am still very happy that after the increasing my stitch count continued to be correct even with the daunting number (394 at that point)

2. With the work off the needle, I was able to see its actual size. I am making this sweater for a man and I was a little worried about sizing issues due to the fact that he is a big guy and my gauge is, yet again, a little wonky. As I was knitting I was constantly worrying that it would be too small. When I took it off I was able to compare its true size with a sweatshirt I had on hand. The sweater will prove to fit him the way it is supposed to, which is looser than fitted. I am extremely excited now because I know for sure that I am on the right size track.

I will cast on again. I will knit the ribbing correctly this time. I will recreate the beautiful stitches and the right number of them. If I did it once, I can do it again.

The Lost Generation

I'm back! ...For now. I can't be blamed, I'm fulfilling my pre-practicum as an intern at the performing arts school down the street, taking a Shakespeare Seminar that I'm far too young to take, and I'm TAing a freshman tutorial. Lots of reading, but so rewarding--especially because of my duties as a TA.

So my professor Michele (now my committee chair and mentor and wonderful) sent me an email that listed my TA duties. I skimmed it quickly, saw that it was the usual stuff (hold office hours for students, hold writing workshops, planning lessons, etc.), and went on to the next email. In our meeting before classes started, we were bantering on the topic of these duties. "Hey, at least I'm not knitting in class!" I retorted. "Well, then you obviously didn't read the email very carefully," she said. Hmm? She opened the email on her laptop, and scrolled down to the bottom. It said "Knit me a scarf for winter." She was ASKING ME TO KNIT IN CLASS...even while I was teaching!

I've been drooling over photos of Noro Striped Scarves (a la the pattern that Jared Flood claims was not his idea), and while I've never really been much for Noro (don't shoot!) I saw the opportunity and dove in head first.

Now, I'm just going to show you photos, because I've spoken long enough, and the pictures speak for themselves.

I took these around campus, and actually waited two weeks for the right light to do so.

On the fire escape outside my house.

On the Graffiti Wall and adjoining stairs in the Arts Village.
On the trellis at the entrance of the Community Garden out my window.
God I love this. I haven't put it on, because I'm afraid Michele will never get it off me.