[SUMMARY: Behold the awesome power of knitting.†]
So I checked with eBeth on what the Tallest Fuzziest‡ Nephew might like, knit-wise, for his ninth birthday.§
He loved the sweater last year, so I'm making him a new one this year. This time, I'm going raglan so I don't have to block and piece and sew and be an hour late to dinner again.
This:
is the graphic from a bag in Greetings From the Knit Café, which I've turned on end and graphed for the sweater. In a fit of creative malaise, I'm going with roughly the same colours in Cascade 220.¶
Turns out kids' sizing is a little weird. Or my pattern sizing was a little weird. Or maybe a charming amalgam# of the two.
To make a long story short, I ended up knitting a 34" chest, which seems ENORMOUS, vis-a-vis my makes-Kate-Moss-look-like-a-Russian-women's-shotput-champion nephew.
The first time I cast on, I did it under the auspices of a size 12, which is a 28" chest on my chart.
So I frogged.
[SUMMARY: Say goodbye to Sweater One.%]
I cast on again, placing my B markers for the center front increases and my A markers for the raglan sleeve increases. I roared through seven inches of sweater by Sunday evening.
[SUMMARY: I have superpowers.††]
The growing smugness I felt at having mastered some version of intarsia in the round‡‡ should've been a BIG clue as to where my hubris was leading me.§§
When I picked it up Monday evening, I heard a tiny *ping*, a delicate warning bell somewhere in the back of my head.
I knit a round.
*ping*
I knit another.
*PING"
I mused as to why one would remove the B markers, per the instructions, when one still had to do the raglan increases every other round...
*PINGDAMNIT!*
That was the sound of me finally realising I'd been increasing at the B markers for the raglan and ignoring the raglan sleeve increases entirely. One-fourth of a sweater... unusable.
[SUMMARY: Ask not for whom the brain pings.]
So I frogged it, a much harder task with two balls¶¶ and a couple of intarsia strands hanging around.
Last night, I cast on for the last time.##
[SUMMARY: Say hello to Sweater Three.]
If this one doesn't work out, the kid is getting a potholder.
†FOOTNOTE (crossed): And pay no attention to the Marin behind the curtain!
‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): He shaved off the mohawk. I told him he has to stop changing hairstyles now so I don't have to find a new name for him every week. First person who points out the folly of using wild and mutable hair as the basis for a lasting nickname gets it in the nose.
§FOOTNOTE (swerved): August 29.
¶FOOTNOTE (paragraphed): Superwash, of course. Providing hand-wash-only sweaters for a nine-year-old is a good way to never be invited back.
#FOOTNOTE (pounded): This is my favourite word today: amalgam.
%FOOTNOTE (percented): Which was going to happen anyway, because I'd just realised I had, for the first time in my entire knitting career, TWISTED THE STITCHES WHEN I JOINED IN THE ROUND. This sweater is cursed.
††FOOTNOTE (ddouble-ccrossed): When the radioactive kitten bit me (which really happened, other than the radioactive part... probably), I really was hoping for the ability to climb drapes or lick my own ears or even just sleep wherever I wanted. I guess if some fascination for string is the extent of it, at least I'm no worse off than I was before.
‡‡FOOTNOTE (doubble-crossssed): Actually, doing intarsia in the round successfully makes me feel like a superhero.
§§FOOTNOTE (the twisting vines of hubris): One's hubris can get one in such trouble.
¶¶FOOTNOTE (two balls... heheheh): *Beavisgiggle*
##FOOTNOTE (two pounds - my head hitting the wall and the wall hitting my head): Other than realising when I joined in the round after the neck increases I forgot to cast on the other 13 stitches... but I don't think I'll have to frog for that. Just go back a couple of rows. This sweater is definitely cursed.
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