Monday, December 05, 2005

In which the nictone-deprivation addled contributor...

...finally finds the title field. YAY!

As long as we're relating fucktard moments, let's just say that instead of looking for it in the settings like any sane person would, I went looking for it in the CSS template first. But that's neither here nor there. This ain't a design blog. In honor of the lovely Matilda's undead, cursed hat (bleargh! sorry, beautiful), I will also share a crafty fucktard moment.

A while ago, when I was about seven months into my shiny, new knitting obsession, I made the mistake of buying Vogue Knitting. Not that there's anything wrong with Vogue Knitting per se, but this particular issue just so happened to contain a full-page ad for the new Vittadini pattern book, the poster child for which is the Martina eyelet cable pullover . Little tart seduced me immediately, despite her rather putrid coloration. Oh, how delicious it would be in the black-like-my-soul Cashmerino I was eyeing with lust in my heart at my local last week, I thought, all momentarily Pollyanna-optimistic and completely ignoring the part where it says "skill level: experienced."

My crafty fucktard moments have a tendency to result from over-ambition. Like the time I decided that a braided, cabled scarf that I made up myself was a good idea after I'd been knitting for about two months. Six months later, I finally managed to put a stake through the thing's heart, and it is rather purty, but it had given me an aversion to cables, which relates. I promise. My nifty new pullover pattern had, count 'em, complicated shaping, complicated, cabled lace and full lace, belled sleeves. In my own defense, I can only say I had to have this pullover, and hadn't realized that "experienced" really means those amazing, grandmother types who can knit Continental without looking and don't need no stinking stitch markers. In other words, knitters who can still eat me for breakfast.

But I duly started the little monster. Made it through the shaping okay. And then I hit the lace. YO, no problem. s3k, no problem. Cable 1ox per row every fourth row?? KHAAAAAAN! We will not speak of the sleeves. Fourteen months later, I have a front, a back, and two-thirds of a sleeve. Le sigh. The day I finish that thing, I think I'll be burning my cable needle and avoiding the things for at least a year. Ah, hubris.


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