Saturday, July 04, 2009
Featherweight Cardigan: WANT
I can't seem to recall ever wanting a Finished Object as much as I want the Featherweight Cardigan. So many projects seem to get finished and you are initially pleased with the results, they then hang around and slowly you become a bit meh about them, or you give them away, so the recipients can love them initially and then themselves feel somewhat meh as well. I get the feeling that the Featherweight is a different experience entirely as it seems like a sweater that one would actually wear, especially this time of year when air conditioning makes wearing sleeveless shirts a bit dicey. Bottom line: I WANT IT and it's taking f-o-r-e-v-e-r. I am knitting on this mofo day and night and I am still at least 8 rows away from dividing for the sleeves. For the love of all that is sacred and holy, I just want to make it to that magical place where I am putting those sleeves on scrap yarn--is that so much to ask? I was so hoping to wear the Featherweight in Paris this week, but alas, no. I will be wearing my usual tired parade of Old Navy duds from 3 years ago and the French will have to be exposed to my appalling bare arms. Just one more indignity, I suppose. Small consolation that will preserve tiny shred of dignity: at least I won't be wearing a fanny pack.
Another reason I want to finish is that I have two more in the knitting queue and really want these as well. Hi, I'm greedy and unrealistic. I have finally managed to get my grubby little hands on some Malabrigo Laceweight in Frank Ochre (which was exceedingly difficult) and some Polar Morn that have Featherweight written all over them. Since only thing more insane than working on one of these cardigans would be working on two of them at a time, Frank and Molar Porn will have to wait.
And with this, I bid you adieu. As I write this, the Curmudgeon is maniacally checking to make sure the coffee pot isn't plugged in and is racing around the house, setting up those timers that people used back in 1970s to switch their lights on and off. He is also imploring me to assist with our preparations for departure. Leisure time is over, time to snap to! Cheerio, friends...