Great Prismatic Cowl from Spinnin' Yarns--Done!

It's done!

The blocking took the bumpy texture down a notch or two, perfect to my liking.  It's still on the casual side, but the edges feel a bit neater now. 

It's more decorative than cozy, but with all those colors in play I'm fine with that.

Thanks for a mind- and skill-expanding knitting experience, Spinnin' Yarns!

Next, we travel to Salt Lake City Utah and visit a handful of great shops in ski country!

Great Prismatic Cowl from Spinnin' Yarns--Day 4

The thing about a project with all one edge…is that it never stops.  

I hadn’t realized the little burst of achievement that an end of a row gives me.  Big believer in mini-goals that I am, I suppose rows represent mileposts, small “got it done” boxes to tick off in the long process that is knitting any project.  

I’m missing those here.

Yes, there’s a lone stitch marker to signify the beginning of each “round” (which is actually two rounds given the whole one-edge-two-sides thing), but it doesn’t seem to do it for me.  Each time I reach the marker, I don’t feel accomplishment. I only feel how many more rounds there are to go.

I find myself wishing I had gone for the Great Prismatic colorway with all those rainbow color changes.  The blue-to-green-and-back-again is pretty, and much better suited to my wardrobe, but it isn’t as exciting.  Soothing, I suppose, but that’s not the same thing, is it?  Besides, the effort of the linen stitch seems to negate any solace.

Even with my mix of feelings about this project, the bottom line is that it’s still too early to tell.  How a project looks on the needles is only a hint of how it might look and feel once finished and blocked.  I’ve learned, over and over, that it is by no means the complete picture.  Knitting is about faith in the creative process.  I have faith that the challenges of this project will pay off in a lovely accessory.  

And that’s what keeps me knitting.

Great Prismatic Cowl from Spinnin' Yarns--Day 3

Stitch and sniff...

I’ve discovered something between this project and my last linen stitch project.

I’m not a big fan of the linen stitch.

The thing I like most about the majority of shawls, scarves, and cowls that I knit is the drape.  I rarely go for the chunky projects—I like the finer ones, the lacy but not fussy stuff.  While I’m a big fan of texture, linen stitch feels to me like all texture and no stitch.  All those bumps and nubs!  

And for whatever reason, linen stitch feels like too much work to me.  I can’t explain it; the quick-as-a-wink slipped stitch should make up for all that switching the yarn back and forth, and this isn’t that much different than a 1x1 or 2x2 rib, but it feels like more work.

In this cowl’s defense, I am coming down with a cold, and I’m cranky.  So there’s that.

Also in this cowl’s defense is it’s stunning color.  It really is a balm to my spirit to work a bright, clear color on a cloudy, wet, cold Chicago January day.  We do seem to specialize in especially dreary winters in Chicago, so this stunning teal-turquoise was an ideal therapeutic choice. The vibrant, almost tropical play of hues is just what I need right now.

Well, that and some NyQuil.  

Great Prismatic Cowl from Spinnin' Yarns--Day 1

The long and winding edge...

I consider myself an accomplished knitter, and the moebius cast-on made me nervous.

It looked complicated.  Even multiple viewings of the go-to tutorial video did little to lower my pulse.  It looked like the kind of thing that could go horribly wrong long before you realize the error.

So I did what any smart person ought to do—find a smarter person.  The best way to keep me calm and correct while attempting this was to do it in the presence of knitters who knew the ropes (or is that the yarns?).

It turned out to be a wise tactic.  While my brain understood the concept—the video is very clear—I had several rounds of holding my knitting up to my friend yelping “is this right?”  “Do I count this stitch or this stitch?”  or “It’s supposed to look like this, isn’t it?”

Like handling dpns for the first time, one’s first attempt at the moebius cast on feels like you are tying your circular needle in knots.  Even our video hostess Cat Bordhi admits it’s a struggle, and exhorts us to hang in there for a few rows until it begins to make sense.

And it does.  After two full rounds (which is actually four times around your needles), it finally settled into something that didn’t make me cringe.  The stitch-filled space between my needles grows with each round, the physical embodiment of the moebius’ mind-bending single-yet-double edge.  

The whole thing is just one giant row.  Mind blown.

Happy New Year, DestiKNITters!