Look! It's Three-Day Sweater, and it's a sleeve and a half away from being done. Maybe Suzanne's O.K. Maybe it's not all hopeless in Bighead Knittingland. Maybe...wait a minute. There's something wrong with that sweater. Why is there better than a four inch gap between the fronts? Is it supposed to be like that?
Shut up, inner commentator.
Hey there, Sooz. So, ummm...what's up with the f*$ked up fronts of that sweater? Is there going to be a border at the opening?
Not supposed to be.
Oh, so it's one of those intentionally wide vests, where the fronts are supposed to only cover the distal edges of your boobs? How retro!
No, its supposed to be a full width, long sleeved cardigan.
It's just that, well, I hate to tell you this, but it looks like you're going to have to take both of the fronts apart and reknit them, thus defeating the purpose of the Three-Day Sweater. Wasn't it supposed to boost your sense of pride in your knitting and give you renewed hope of finishing a garment? You haven't knit anything wearable since Thanksgiving.
Why are you still talking? Drink your glass of shut-up juice while I talk to the readers.
Readers? Here's the deal. The back is the correct width, but the fronts came up shy, probably a combination of the slipped stitch edge rolling in on itself and I don't know what else. Part of me wants to take the whole thing apart and knit a top-down cardigan in one piece so I won't have seams. Part of me just wants it done so I can move on. It's Manos, and it's already partially felted from being frogged from another failed project. Complete frogging is still possible, but probably only one more time.
What should I do? I've got three choices.
1. Take the fronts apart and add to the width.
2. Single-crochet rows along both front edges until they're wide enough.
3. Throw the whole thing, needles and all, back into the plastic bag I dragged it from last Thursday and never speak of it again, or for at least a couple of years.
The title of this post? I overheard it at the Safeway on Clayton Road. I don't know Allen, I don't know his friends, and I don't know what "going all pansy-style" entails, but it stuck with me. It pops into my head every once in a while and makes me snicker.