This baby sweater, if you could see all the knitting that has actually gone into it, would be the size of an adult garment. The back’s been knit another time (killme) and now I’ve had to rip the shoulder all the way back to the end of the cable because when I was done, the top was bigger than the bottom. I tried to figure out how to make that a design element, but since newborn babies don’t wear a lot of really huge 80’s style shoulder pads (they don’t have the hair volume to pull it off) it truly presented a problem. I stared at it, pulled at it, blocked it, and could not figure out what had gone wrong. I had cast on 30 stitches, knit in garter stitch for a bit, then increased for the cable, then switched back to garter.
Now normally, I would be horrified to report to you that it took 40 minutes to work out that increasing totally makes things bigger, and that if you want something to be the same size at the end that it was at the beginning – then you should have the same number of stitches at the end that you had at the beginning. Normally, this would be one of those blog posts where I would be embarrassed that such a simple explanation didn’t make sense to me straight off, but frankly the working conditions around here make it a miracle that I figured it out at all…. and I blame Joe.
I was doing just fine (by a knitters standards) until my loving and erstwhile husband said something unbelievable to our daughter Samantha. Something no parent that worked from home would ever present to a determined 14 year old musician, should they be planning on surviving a summer. That something? The something that has made it a miracle that I know my own name or can function as anything other than a raving lunatic and leaves me proud, PROUD, I tell you, that I can even knit garter stitch, never mind count? He said this:
“If you learn to play the guitar solo from Back In Black, you will never have to do the dishes again. ”
All I want is a jury of my peers.