It’s not over till the tall lady blocks
Definitely not a knit-and-wear item. This is why we block. I’m delighted that the shawl is finished, but I couldn’t possibly don it in its current tiny, curly state. It’s not much larger than a bandana right now, and it looks more like something that belongs in a salad than something that belongs on my shoulders. It hasn’t gained all its lacy goodness.
Ah, but a nice bath and a good stretch will take care of that in a jiffy. Properly blocked, this will take on a delicate elegance that will allow the pattern design to really pop. This one will be lovely. That transformation on tomorrow’s to-do list, and I can hardly wait.
My week has been full of tending a grumpy, contagious teenage boy on quarantine, so the sense of accomplishment is desperately needed. Honestly, there are weeks when I’m easily convinced if I didn’t knit, I’d need sedatives. Or anti-depressants. Or both.
On a practical level, I do have two pattern notes:
- I particularly liked the bind-off on this one. It has a good elasticity--something often lacking in my bind offs, so I was glad to add a new skill to my toolbox. It’s pretty and simple, like a backwards version of the knit-two-together bind-off I usually use. It gives the same sort of serge edge I often use on scarves, and I like that elasticity. I suspect it will be important as this piece stretches into its full elegance.
- After a grumbling hour unknitting two very long rows, I found I needed to add a “K2” to the first instructions of the border’s first row. Either it’s a typo, or I messed up earlier repeats. I should have seen it coming. If I’d been a thinking knitter, I would have realized how elements in the border needed to line up with elements from the pattern. If I had seen past my blind obedience to see the the overall design concept, I wouldn’t have been an hour’s worth of stitching into the border before I realized my mistake. I can’t begin to tell you how many times I’ve made the mistake of not listening to the small voice in my head saying “something’s not right here.” Call it “knitter’s intuition.” And when you hear it, heed it.