Power struggle

I wanted something easy but not-a-sock to knit while I was recovering.  Stockinette, no fancy technical flourishes, and ideally rather small, so I could feel like I was accomplishing something, even though I was spending most of every day parked on the couch.  I pulled a child's cardigan pattern from my Ravelry queue, some yarn from stash and got started.

Things went smoothly at first.  But really, why wouldn't they?  The project was an almost seamless cardigan, in size 4T.  I would be able to knit this thing in my sleep.

(Or while on oxycodone.  Potato/potahto.)

The cardigan played nice at first.  I finished the body in less than two days, then cast on the left sleeve.  I was an inch or so from the top when I realized that I'd only knit the purl row that borders the switch from 2x3 ribbing to stockinette across three of my four needles. BACK WHEN I'D FINISHED THE CUFF.

I pondered my options for a while (Would anyone really notice that small missing section of purl bumps?  Would I?  Even if I did, would it bother me? Was it something that could be fixed with duplicate stitch and/or a crochet hook? SO MANY WEIGHTY QUESTIONS), but ultimately decided that A) the flaw would make me crazy and B) I had nothing but time anyway.

Riiiiiiiiiiip.

I fixed the offending stitches and knit the sleeve again.  This time, I made it all the way to the top before I realized that I'd screwed up the increase rows.

Riiiiiiiiiiip.

My third attempt was the one that took.  The right sleeve was no problem at all, so I joined the sleeves to the body and started to knit the yoke.

Like a good do-bee, I read the instructions (although I didn't really need to, since I'd knit several sweaters like this before, and knew exactly what I was supposed to do next).  "Dec 2 sts on each side of all markers," yeah, yeah, I got it.  I knit away, ssk-ing on the right side of the markers and k-ing tog on the left, smug in my certainty that I'd taught the sweater who was boss.  When I was finished  ....

I had twice as many stitches on the needle as I was supposed to.

Riiiiiiiiiiip.

I re-checked the instructions (but didn't bother to "SEE DECREASING TIP" as instructed -- all caps theirs -- because I know how to decrease a sweater yoke, DUH), got to the end, and ......

had too many stitches on the needle.  Again.

Riiiiiiiiiiip.

It was as I was putting everything back on the needles for my third run at this STUPID, STUPID YOKE that WB came to see me.

"Whacha knitty?" she demanded.

"A sweater," I said.

"Da me?"

"Yes, honey, Mommy is making you a new purple sweater!  Isn't it pretty?"  I asked, holding the sweater out so she could see it better.

Her nostrils flared.  "Huh." she said critically. "I wike pink."

I AM SO HAPPY TO HEAR THAT!  GO SEE DADDY NOW.

Before my third try I did a little math, and realized that in order to have the right number of stitches for the neck, I needed to be decreasing twice as fast as I was.  I searched the DROPS website for errata ... nothing.  I pulled up other people's project pictures on Ravelry and zoomed in on the raglan seams, trying to see if they'd followed the pattern or decreased more often.   Unfortunately, no one had taken any beauty shots of this portion of the sweater.

Half way into attempt #3, I could tell I was still decreasing too slowly.

At this point, the Purple Nightmare -- which was CLEARLY acting the age of the child it was being knit for -- was put into time out.

Several days passed before I was able to face the sweater again.  Before I got started, I decided that perhaps I should go ahead and read the DECREASING TIP.  It wasn't going to tell me anything I didn't already know, but the nice people at DROPS had put it in all caps, so the least I could do was read it.

The first sentence told me that I was going to lose 16 stitches per decrease round.  But ... how was that possible?  Decreasing on either side of four markers would only give me 8 decreases total, unless .... my eyes went back to the original instructions.

"Dec 2 sts on each side of all markers".  Two stitches!  Ah.  That would be .... not what I'd been doing.

So.

I decided to follow those DECREASING INSTRUCTIONS to the letter.   Well, would you look at that!

It worked.

O.k., sweater, FINE.  LET'S JUST GET THIS OVER WITH.

I knit the button bands, and it will probably not surprise you at ALL to hear that despite my previous experience I decided to punt the buttonhole placement, and ended up without enough room to evenly space the one on the collar.  Well, I'd ripped and re knit this stupid sweater enough, I wasn't going to do it again.  At this point, the sweater probably thought it had won (I am pretty sure it was smirking), but I had one last weapon in my arsenal.

Q:  What sweater doesn't need a button on its collar band?

A:  One with a hood.

Take THAT, purple cardi.



I win.