? From Issue 6 of The Knitter
? The uncharacteristically decorative cardigan I started a few weeks ago? My awesome new BED JACKET?
Well, it's done. But getting to Done took so very much longer than I thought it would.
I cranked the body easily enough. It's one piece, just a lot of yarnovering or yarningover or whatever (like jump-roping when I was growing up--nobody called it jumping rope).
When I finished the body, I didn't even blink and cranked some sleeves. At that point it was only 15 rows to glory--just a little edging, and zipzapsnipsnap I'd be lounging around like Rachel Menken
in her Mad Men boudoir. (Look! Thank you to whoever pointed out the resemblance of the Clarissa model to the fabulous department store owner Rachel Menken in Mad Men.)
Well anyway, I think you know where this is headed. It was the edging. I feel like I've eaten two Krispy Kreme boxes of edging. I'm suffering from Edging Lockup.
I will say that the prospect of this edging was not an unpleasant one. It was a giant pickup, all the way around the front, the collar, the other front, then around the back in a giant, circular edgefest. How fun is THAT? How fun is it to pick up 328 stitches?
Here's an up-close-and-personal view of the increase situation on the edging.
I hadn't really considered how it was such a ruffly sort of edging. Until I got to round 5. It just kept being more and more. From 348 stitches to 924, like a grocery store where each checkout line closes just as you get there. The never-ending pile of sugar you spilled and can't quite sweep up.
I'd needle my way through an entire episode of Top Chef only to find that I was only halfway through one round.
And then, when my will to live was completely demolished, I remembered the part that I had sort of ignored: the crocheted edge.
Ohhhh, crochet. I've successfully avoided you for my entire knitting career. I mean, I like you and all, but I don't really want to sit next to you in biology or anything.
As I dragged toward that final round, with the impending problem of "cast off 2, chain 5" along the 924 stitches of the edge, I realized that this Clarissa Bed Jacket Rachel Menken Fantasy Garb was not going to fly unless it had the crocheted edge. It looked naked without it.
So I did this.
For a long, long time.
The relief I felt at finishing it was akin to coming out of a bad pair of pants. Sweet deliverance! And it was such a relief to slap on the sleeves that I immediately donned my Clarissa Bed Jacket Rachel Menken Fantasy Garb
and made David take my picture. I wore it all day. I wore it to Harris-Teeter, and I wore it to the hospital, and I'm wearing it right this minute, as a matter of fact. If you wear it under a jacket, it gets less crazy. David said I looked like a pirate, a creepy mom pirate.
It's not going to be much of a bed jacket, it turns out, because to wear this in bed means sitting on that edging, and what I really don't need from this thing is any further pain in the heinie!
A superfun pain in the heinie, of course. It's why we knit, right? To take on horrible problems, fix them, and move on to the next one. It's so much easier than real life.
P.S. From Kay
Not for nothing, but I think (a) David has a point and (2) you're all set for Halloween.
And, of course (III): I love your exquisite Clarissa and will take her off your hands, any time.