The Artson baby blanket and I are having a fight. Sure, we’ve bickered during our time together. Once because I thought it would be fun to swap my color arrangement around, another time because I was drunk enough to use two different size needle tips during a 2 AM knitting session. Sure, he thinks I’m pain when I’m trying to get him to pose for the perfect in-progress picture, getting under my skin with statements like “You wouldn’t let someone post a picture of you first thing in the morning on the internet – why am I different?”.
Each time, the arguing has brought us closer together – except this last time. This last time, I was tempted to torch the sucker with a lighter. Instead, he’s folded up on my ottoman waiting for me to reconcile our relationship; I’m stubborn enough to just spend time with other projects until he commits to cooperating with me.
I know you’ll completely side with me, so let me tell you how all of this transpired. I was happily picking up stitches for the very last block while Mr. Joseph and I were traveling to a wedding this weekend. I didn’t have my pattern instructions with me, so I asked Artson, “Hey buddy, how many stitches do I need to pick up for this block?”.
He insisted there were only 137 needed for the block. I argued I thought it was more. Maybe 160?
“No, it’s definitely 137. Just pick up 137. I promise you, that’s all that will fit, anyway.” – Artson
So that’s what I did. And then I knit 51 rows during 3 hours of travel time. I thanked him for his help when I was done, and was excited to start the process of grafting his two halves together. I couldn’t wait for the moment to see the entire pattern come together in all it’s glory (yes, very much in a Dr. Frankenstein kind of way).
It was about 10 PM when I sat down on Monday to get it done. I happily repeated my Kitchener stitching mantra, while Mr. Joseph quietly entertained himself (he knows when he hears the muttering to leave me alone until it ceases).
About two hours in, I started to get concerned. It looked like I didn’t have enough stitches on one side of the work, but of course Artson would never lie to me, so I just kept on going. At 2 AM in the morning, I let out a “You have got to be !@#$%^&* kidding me!”, and shoved Artson into the bottom of an empty shelf in the darkest closet I could find. I yelled at him outside of the door for lying to me. I decided to call in Mr. Pattern for back up. He supported my side of the argument – 182 stitches were needed for the last block. I was under by almost 50 stitches. Artson lied. He’s a liar. And a jerk.
Since I can’t possibly look at him, much less think about all the spending time with him to cut out all the grafting, frog 6,000 stitches, and knit up 10,000 in their place, I decided we needed a break – some time apart in order to gain some perspective.
I searched and searched my stash for something that would be a quick knit, and found some wonderful chunky Misti Alpaca I had lying around. This sweater is just the new beginning I needed. The first date after a break up. Rebound knitting.
I asked him how many stitches I needed, he told me 47. Perfect. How many to decrease for armholes? 2. Music to my ears. What about the neckline? Hold the 5 center stitches and decrease one stitch at the neck edge every alternating row. You’re a dream come true, sweater – how great it is to rebound with someone who’s honest. You don’t lie, and I like that.
Of course, my deadline for both of these projects is the same day: the baby shower and my nephews birthday part are both on August 25th.
I’ve told Mr. Sweater that I’m not ready for anything serious, so we’ve agreed to continue to see each other as friends. Artson and I are going to have to work things out, for the baby’s sake of course. I’m not quite ready to spend time with him yet, but I’m hopeful about our future.
I guess time will tell.
About Hunter Liam
Hunter's grandmother had him making buttons and threading her sewing machine at the age of three. Ever since then, he's been obsessed with making things with his hands as a form of creative expression.Knitter, spinner, designer, writer, photographer, dancer . . . or just a creative soul with ADD.