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Hrafn Knit/Hack Sweater: Sleeve Two: ARGH!
So I was knitting merrily along on Sleeve Two, a broad expanse of handsome stocking stitch (that's "a buncha V's, right?" to the non-knitters, like the outside of a sock) interrupted along the back of the forearm by a twisting overhand knot, made a little pointy on each end to better complement the main body's knot.
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tanyad wanted a WiP photo--which I think are a bit silly, but all the cool knitbloggers are doing it, so, just for her, I have put one here, behind a handy cut. Also, pic taken with Omi the iPhone, so the quality is, simply, craptastic.
--but you can tell the knotwork, and so I am happy. The stuff of which I babbled in the more technical post on these sleeves can be compared to this picture and theoretically make sense. Translating for, um, anyone else, it means: "make a narrow cuff bit, make it poof a bit, then straight to where it would have been had it tapered instead of blousing, then taper normally to shoulder.
However!
At the end of lunch, I noticed...a purl.
In the middle of all that beautiful knit. Here's a closeup, with the mistake highlighted. It's blurry because iPhones are bad cameras:
Sticking its little bar up from the Field ofDreams Knit. This stitch is sticking its tongue at me in sheer ornery defiance!
Actually, this book is the source of the first cabling I ever did, so actually using it to make a sweater instead of just yanking its motifs as inspiration for unwearably-warm-for-California scarves and rune bags that have been amusingly misidentified by drunken heathens (there are stories, oh yes) is an interesting bit of coming 'round again, and that always appeals.
I'm also making this because I am proud of my skill--and, frankly, of all the things I'm good at, this is among the easiest to show off. I will see that thing, know that thing, and then probably not want to wear the sweater. I would just quietly fix the damnthing and not blogrant about it except I have students, and when I seemedancer get flummoxed by King Charles Brocade, I figure she could probably benefit from seeing what makes me tear my hair out. So.
The hackers of my flist appreciate this, whether they hack source code, fabric, yarn, cameras, choice mental states, whole organizations of social experimentation, souls, fabric, or whatever. It is for me and I will know, forever and ever amen. I could, perhaps, talk myself out of it if it were, say, to be consigned to my underarm, but sadly NO, it is right there on my upper forearm, and it's pissing me off to look at it.
I figure I have two choices on how to fix this:
One: I can drop the stitch at the top of the column containing the defiant little purl, rip out all stitches above it, turn that purl into a knit, and close the ladder back up, all with the aid of a latch hook or crochet hook. The tension on this may look horrible after, but if I have faith, a wash will even it out and time will deal with the rest. EZ has told me this, and really, she hasn't failed me yet (as disir go, she's doing pretty well). This will be quicker than Choice Two, assuming I can live with how it will look after the reweaving job.
Two: Cuss, snarl, and rip out those few hundred stitches and couple dozen rows, then re-knit.
One supposes that the instructional purpose would be best served by leaving the bad little purl to sit until I havemedancer in for a private lesson tomorrow, but I'm not inclined to do that; if I can fix this purl promptly, I can finish the sleeve tonight, and think about uniting sleeves and body.
So, Gentle Readers, a question that involves only aesthetic taste and not technical knowledge: you can see the mirrored knots trailing along the sleeves, but if for some reason you're graphicly disinclined or disabled, there is one sleeve where the cable flows like a column of forward slashes, and one that flows like a column of backslashes. Should I have these sleeves facing each other, thus:
Or away from each other, thus?
Thoughts?
-- Lorrie
By the way,
tanyad wanted a WiP photo--which I think are a bit silly, but all the cool knitbloggers are doing it, so, just for her, I have put one here, behind a handy cut. Also, pic taken with Omi the iPhone, so the quality is, simply, craptastic.--but you can tell the knotwork, and so I am happy. The stuff of which I babbled in the more technical post on these sleeves can be compared to this picture and theoretically make sense. Translating for, um, anyone else, it means: "make a narrow cuff bit, make it poof a bit, then straight to where it would have been had it tapered instead of blousing, then taper normally to shoulder.
However!
At the end of lunch, I noticed...a purl.
In the middle of all that beautiful knit. Here's a closeup, with the mistake highlighted. It's blurry because iPhones are bad cameras:
Sticking its little bar up from the Field of
Actually, this book is the source of the first cabling I ever did, so actually using it to make a sweater instead of just yanking its motifs as inspiration for unwearably-warm-for-California scarves and rune bags that have been amusingly misidentified by drunken heathens (there are stories, oh yes) is an interesting bit of coming 'round again, and that always appeals.
I'm also making this because I am proud of my skill--and, frankly, of all the things I'm good at, this is among the easiest to show off. I will see that thing, know that thing, and then probably not want to wear the sweater. I would just quietly fix the damnthing and not blogrant about it except I have students, and when I see
medancer get flummoxed by King Charles Brocade, I figure she could probably benefit from seeing what makes me tear my hair out. So.The hackers of my flist appreciate this, whether they hack source code, fabric, yarn, cameras, choice mental states, whole organizations of social experimentation, souls, fabric, or whatever. It is for me and I will know, forever and ever amen. I could, perhaps, talk myself out of it if it were, say, to be consigned to my underarm, but sadly NO, it is right there on my upper forearm, and it's pissing me off to look at it.
I figure I have two choices on how to fix this:
One: I can drop the stitch at the top of the column containing the defiant little purl, rip out all stitches above it, turn that purl into a knit, and close the ladder back up, all with the aid of a latch hook or crochet hook. The tension on this may look horrible after, but if I have faith, a wash will even it out and time will deal with the rest. EZ has told me this, and really, she hasn't failed me yet (as disir go, she's doing pretty well). This will be quicker than Choice Two, assuming I can live with how it will look after the reweaving job.
Two: Cuss, snarl, and rip out those few hundred stitches and couple dozen rows, then re-knit.
One supposes that the instructional purpose would be best served by leaving the bad little purl to sit until I have
medancer in for a private lesson tomorrow, but I'm not inclined to do that; if I can fix this purl promptly, I can finish the sleeve tonight, and think about uniting sleeves and body.So, Gentle Readers, a question that involves only aesthetic taste and not technical knowledge: you can see the mirrored knots trailing along the sleeves, but if for some reason you're graphicly disinclined or disabled, there is one sleeve where the cable flows like a column of forward slashes, and one that flows like a column of backslashes. Should I have these sleeves facing each other, thus:
\ / \ / \ / \ /
Or away from each other, thus?
/ \ / \ / \ / \
Thoughts?
-- Lorrie