Like Project Runway, Only More Stressful
February 15, 2006
QUICK! The Noro afghan auction ends within the hour! Go make a last-ditch bid, everybody.
I thought I’d have a free and clear 16 Olympic days to crank my test-knit of the Perfect Sweater, but I have had to put it on the back burner for a minute to finish My First Commission. For a very demanding client.
Clif, Mr. Six. (For those following Clif’s budding career as a photojournalist, here are some recent works which reflect his interest in TV, Legos, rodents, and his brother.)
The boy is driving me nuts about his dragon sweater–you know, the one that adapts the intarsia dragon from Cristina’s baby jean jacket project in our book? I’ve never had such a situation. For the past four days he has asked me about it on the hour, every hour, wondering when it’ll be finished, how many stitches I have left to do, never letting an opportunity pass when he can say, “Isn’t it ready YET?” He’s going to be an excellent lobbyist someday–the perseverence! The relentlessness of it all! The corner-her-in-the-kitchen-until-she-stops-fixing-supper-and-works-on-the-sweater persistence!
The thing is, he wants it done yesterday, yet he doesn’t care how the thing looks. Really. It just doesn’t matter. He doesn’t care whether it has sleeves. It doesn’t need a collar. The dragon doesn’t even need an eyeball, never mind the cute little embroidery doodads I was planning to add to cover up my crapulous intarsia. When he told me that he really didn’t need sleeves, I said, “Well, we’ll need to put some armhole edging on the vest, you know?” to which he said, “No way.”
While he’s at school I’m sneaking in a steam blocking. He wouldn’t care. And I just can’t stand to let the holes at the edges of the dragon go unrepaired. He wouldn’t care. And I am going to give that dragon an eyeball. But I may just let this go.
Look at what I discovered during my mattress stitch sew-up:
That blue stripe? The one that is seven rows long on the right, and five rows on the left? This would normally send me into a trough of despair. But hey–who cares? The Client won’t!
So. The end result is going to look nothing like what I intended, but The Client will likely be very happy. All I can say is: be careful what you wish for, if you’re wishing that your children would pester you for a handknit sweater. This is worse than ants in the kitchen.