When Good Knits Go Bad

Today the urge to make oatmeal cookies seized me with a vengeance. Four dozen cookies later, I slunk over to the couch, oh wait you think I ate four dozen cookies. No, no, I baked four dozen cookies. I only ate about a dozen. So, I was lying on the couch staring at the wall, suffering from sugar induced zombie-ism, when I saw a UFO. I had placed this UFO on the middle of the coffee table, so that the first time my butt hit couch, I'd see it. My trap worked. Guilt is a strong antidote to sugar induced zombie-ism. This UFO is the dark heart of my UFOs. It has been haunting me for years, nagging me every time I cast on. It is "The Vest of Shame" a.k.a. "My Dad's Vest" a.k.a "Skye Tweed Vest" by Kathy Zimmerman.







The most annoying part of a UFO is the first hour of knitting. This is because I didn't keep notes pre-Ravelry, and I'm forced to "read" my knitting to figure out where I am in the pattern. That shouldn't be enough to deter an intrepid knitter such as myself. That's not the only reason I hate the first hour of knitting. The other reason is that, 9 times out of 10, there's a problem. 9 times out of 10, I made a booboo, and was so annoyed that I chucked the offending project into a sack. Here is where it gets stupid. I (almost) never check for a problem. I pick up the UFO, find the pattern, look through the instructions to find where to restart, knit for a half an hour, and then I find a problem. This happens every time. So what's the problem with "The Vest of Shame"?



Stitch count, check. Length, check. Shaping, check. Cables, crap. I think there's a problem. I was going to write a lovely post about tweed and oatmeal (see the warm fuzzy June Cleaver's kitchen photos), but two inches into knitting I started to feel really happy with the knitting. It was going along so smoothly. It felt like I might just finish this succubus. Whenever I get a feeling like that, I spread my knitting out to admire it. This was the point at which I realized that there is something not quite right with the cables. I squinted at it. I pulled a little. I almost called my husband over for a second opinion, but I didn't want a second opinion. I didn't want to face the music. I wanted to shove that mean, two faced, jerk of a project into the bottom of a sack, and forget about it. The problem is I can't forget it. My Dad's birthday is just around the corner. That mean hearted vest must be finished. It's "March to the Finish", and I've made a commitment. I may not be able to stop myself from shoving a dozen hot oatmeal cookies into my mouth, but I am woman enough to stay the course, and keep my commitment. I will finish this vest. I will celebrate my victory by shoving another dozen cookies in my mouth.



Oh, before I forget, the Spring issue of "The Twist Collective" is up. It's great. I like these socks, and this sweater, and this blanket, and this vest, and....maybe I'd better wait until April.