The Learning Cliff

I'm going to begin this post with a positive development, and finish with a cautionary tale. The positive development is this.





There is something a little creepy about finishing a project that's taken this long, and had so many problems. It's like waking up one day to find that the school bully is suddenly handing out cupcakes, and putting his/her arm around you. There's something off putting about the whole business. I keep waiting for the sweater to jump up from the table, and throw itself in the fire. I think I might only be mildly surprised if it did. Before it has a chance to do something evil, I'm going to weave in the ends, wash it, block it, and insure it for 1 million euros before sending it off to daddy dearest.
The cautionary tale is about a young woman who taught herself to spin. She thought, after a ludicrously short amount of time, that she knew enough about spinning to spin some yarn for a sweater. After all, it's making yarn, how hard could it be? She spun, and spun and spun. Then, after what felt like enough spinning, she started knitting. She knit a back, the left front, and she started knitting a belt. This is where she discovered that some of her yarn was of a different weight. She shrugged, and knitted on. There was a nagging feeling, but she ignored it. Then, she began the right front.



This is a sad tale. It doesn't end well for the girl, or for the sweater. Do you see how the left front is dwarfed by its looming, and still incomplete twin? This is why you should always listen to that inner voice. Always.
I've ripped out the musclebound right front, and am knitting a lighter weight version. I hope this story has a happy ending, one that doesn't involve me learning too many lessons, or gaining any more character. I really don't need any more character.