That Uh-Oh Moment…

Sometimes, well…a lot of the time, I don’t read directions carefully, especially when they’re long and involved directions. (Remember, impatience is one of my fatal flaws!) If I had, I might not have had that uh-oh moment with this last project.

For as long as I can remember, I’ve adored those raglan sweaters where the sleeves are a different color from the body. I think that’s a striking, cool, attractive look. It’s a very eccentric, yet playful look—something that a “thinker” would wear. It’s probably from my art school days, because everybody dressed pretty cool and eccentrically back then. Anyway, I decided that it was time to use some of my stashed yarn to make such a sweater for the 2nd coolest boy in the world (my husband being the first of course), my 7-y/o son. I decided that the best way to do would be to follow the simple raglan instructions found in Ann Budd’s Handy Book of Sweater Patterns. Simple! I could knit in the round, divide for sleeves, start working the sleeves while still attached to the body, decrease and finish. A lovely one-shot project!

So the uh-oh happened when it was time to divide for sleeves. I realized that I could no longer continue to knit as one whole piece anymore, due to the fact that the sleeves were a different color. Unless I wanted to continue the project with 4 balls of yarn, and no—I had no interest in that, I had to break it into parts. Ugh. Dreaded parts. Dreaded seaming! The whole point of knitting raglan in the round was to avoid seaming! Grrr.

I resolutely refused to back up and start over. I already started a sleeve in the round on double pointed needles, so I figured I might as well forge ahead. I looked at Ann Budd’s instructions for decreasing, and simply divided the total amount of decrease stitches she suggested amongst the front panel, the back panel, and two sleeves. It did get a little confusing when I had to start binding off the front stitches to make the neckline.

From this point on, sadly, I winged it. I had no real idea what I was doing, all I knew was that the pieces had to be a certain shape, and every now and then I’d check the sleeves against the body, to make sure they would fit properly. Perhaps over the last 6 years of knitting, I’ve actually developed some intuitive knowledge of sweater-construction. Who knew? I knitted with faith, intent, and perseverance. There was a little anxiety thrown in there too, in case it turned out to be a disaster.

As I neared the end of the project, I realized that seaming together the parts was going to be tricky, but I knew it wouldn’t be impossible.

Due to bad math, the armholes turned out to be not quite as large as the sleeve holes, but I nudged the seaming well enough for the boy. All in all, it worked out. Not exactly the best way to construct a sweater, but I learned a few things:

1) As the late, well-loved master Elizabeth Zimmerman wrote of her attitude toward the craft, “You are the boss of your own knitting. No license required.” It’s okay to digress from the pattern, follow your own instincts.

2) I really need to read Elizabeth Zimmerman’s percentage system on sweater making. Word for word.