Good as a Feast

Today I've been dwelling on the nature of Plenty, and the nature of Enough.  Turns out that in certain circumstances, the two are the same.  But let me back up...

There I was, with one sleeve knitted, and one to go.  I had no idea how sleeve #1 was going to fit into the already-completed armscye, and wouldn't until I had blocked the sleeve and sewn it in.  But I couldn't block/sew sleeve #1 until I knew whether or not there was enough yarn left to complete sleeve #2.  In which wretched case, I would be frogging sleeve #1 to change its design to one requiring less yarn.  And then I would be frogging sleeve #2 to match the new sleeve #1, and still hoping that there would be enough yarn.  And perhaps throwing my feeble self under the next bus.

And that's when it happened.  The Knitting Genius, who is my dear friend, KT said this:  "Weigh the first sleeve, and then weigh all the yarn you have left."  And then she actually waited while I did it.  Sleeve #1 weighed in at exactly 6 oz.  Sleeve 2, plus the remaining yarn, came in at 6 7/8.  Genius KT judged it to be close enough, and advised me to knit on with confidence. 

Scales are so fabulous.  Almost as fabulous as knitters who know how to use them:
 

That wee ball in between the sleeves is the remaining 1 5/8 oz of yarn.  Which means that in spite of Phillip throwing away the second half of my fleece (yes, he still sleeps in the garage), in spite of my lack of restraint in adding a boatload of cables to the design, and in spite of my inability to guess how much yarn is required for a sweater to fit me, I caught a break.  Oh, and did I mention that my collar-knitting odyssey resulted in a collar that swallowed over 300 yards of yarn?  All I can think is that the science of yarn measurement/estimation is flawed, at best.  I know darn good and well that 1600-odd yards of sport-weight should not have been able to afford this garment.  I also know that the same 1600-odd yards that I measured by length also weighed over 2 1/2 pounds. which should have been enough for all the sweater I could want, and a toilet paper cozy to match.  So which estimate was right?  Where did my lukewarm relationship with math fail me?

After all this pondering, and the resulting nosebleed, I decided that it really doesn't matter.  What counts is that I have a whole sweater (or I will, once the seams are sewn), and even a wee bit of yarn leftover with which to sew the seams.  And in the words of Caroline Quiner Ingalls (Laura's Ma), and probably her Ma before her, "enough's as good as a feast".  It doesn't matter if your leftovers fill a teaspoon or a snow shovel, as long as the amount you really NEED is there.

So I'm going to make it a point at this, the time of harvest, to be thankful for both Plenty, and for Enough.  God knows there are many in this world who have never known either.  Take a moment with me, won't you, and express a bit of gratitude for whatever it is you've got?  Sometimes we don't need our cups to overflow.  Sometimes having something in the cup at all is a triumph.

And in case you are wondering, the super-wide sleeve cap is on purpose.  Stay tuned to see if it fits.
 

Shawl Together Now

And it came to pass, as the sun set upon the third day, that the collar was done at last.  And she looked and called it Good:

Yes, I think I can now say that I like the collar, though since this is version 8.0, it may be that I just want it over with.

I have no freaking idea why the thing is so, well, LARGE.  There is about 300 yards of yarn in there, if you can believe it.  Obviously, garter stitch uses more yarn, but how there ended up to be so much acreage in the thing is beyond me.  I'm thinking that the depth of the V neck is to blame: shallower would have been preferable, because it just takes so many dang stitches to get around the wee beastie.  But there comes a point where you just have to press on and see what happens.  Apparently for me, that point is somewhere between the 7th and 8th version of the shawl collar.

Which translates to a collar which, even when folded in half, is pretty freaking high in the back.  For someone short of neck (like me), it's really more fabric than necessary.  But if cozy was my goal, I think I have well and truly got it.  This thing is not just a shawl collar, it's an actual shawl, attached to the neckline of a cardigan.  Epic.  Practically a hood. Beware of sudden updrafts: Sweater may achieve liftoff.

Still, I think the project's headed in the direction I had hoped (Knitting Gods; insert SMITE here).  I was going for something that looks tailor-y and fitted-y and sorta, well, period, if you get my meaning, but without being costume-y.  Although, if it does end up costume-y, I will still love it. 

Strangely, after all the time I have spent with this wool, as fleece, as spinning, and now as knitting, I'm only now starting to think about what it will be like to actually wear it.  And I like what I have so far.  Two challenges left (that I am aware of, at least): 

1.    Make sleeves that work the way I want them to, and
2.    Don't run out of yarn.

Same thing we do everyday, no?
 

Collarless

Progress on Caora Dubh continues:

Here you can actually see the cables:

And today's goal is to do the shawl collar.  That was yesterday's goal, as well, but it's proving surprisingly elusive.  I have gutted and started the collar over no less than 7 times, stymied by the geometry.  It's not that I haven't got other people's instructions for how to do this, it's that they yeild shapes that completely defy my ability to make clothes from. 

I'm harboring guarded optomism for version 8.0, having unearthed a machine-made cardigan of Phillip's which has the collar I (think) I want.  Seeing the shape I'm supposed to be knitting (different from anything I have found in my books, by the way) is bound to help.  Failing that, I plan to make blood sacrifice to the Knitting Gods.  Wouldn't be the first time, after all.