My Life as a Southpaw

Inigo        I admit it, you are better than I am.

Wesley    Then why are you smiling?

Inigo         Because I know something that you don't know.

Wesley     And what is that?

Inigo         I am not left-handed!

-The Princess Bride

Remember back in June, when I broke my right pinky finger?  What I couldn't tell you then was that in addition to all the other craziness going on at the time, I was still knitting.  Because I had to.  Because there was a deadline for this:

Did you see it in Knitty (if not, click HERE)?  You can imagine my despair when the bone man at the hospital slapped a cast on my favorite hand, while this was still only a vision in my head. How would I ever knit it?

Left-handed, that's how.  Although just like Inigo, I am not left-handed.

The going was slow.  Glacial.  Excruciating, both physically and emotionally.  To see what it was like, put your stilettos on the wrong feet, and then run for the bus.  But what else could I do? The vest had to get made on time, or it wouldn't be in Knitty.  And then Lindsay couldn't model it at Powell's Books.  And you couldn't have the free pattern.  Nope, the only option was to press on, stitch by clumsy stitch, hoping it wouldn't come out looking like I knit it with boxing gloves on. Somehow, it doesn't.  Somehow, it's exactly the way I wanted it to look.  The Knitting Gods took pity on me, though I probably didn't deserve it.

So now you know the rest of the story.  And if  you're on the fence about knitting your own Great Horn-rimmed, ask yourself, how hard could it be? I made mine with one hand tied behind my back.

Even Though I'm Right, I'm Wrong

I paid really close attention to the antique Fana cardigan in this photo:

My favorite thing about it? ANATOMICAL CUFFS.  Look closely: The cuff openings will fall at the wristbones, not on the undersides of the sleeves, where the rounds would usually begin and the increases happen.  This would require some deft maneuvering to replicate, and you know that I do love me some sexy sweater construction.  But how to get the openings rotated a quarter of the way around each wrist?  
 

Option 1:  Knit the sleeves normally, one at a time. Then cut the opening where you want it and bind its edges with ribbon.

Option 2:  Knit the cuffs together with steeks in between.  Separate the cuffs, then place them each on needles with the openings oriented as needed, but start each subsequent round a quarter-cuff away.  Repeat for second sleeve, in reverse.

Option 3:  Leave no actual opening at all, but add trim and buttons to mimic one.

Option 4:  Abandon the entire cockamamie exercise.  My sweater cuffs stretch, so why do they need buttons anyway?

Guess which option I chose (Hint: Hardest. Possible. Way.) ?

#4 was out because omitting buttons means less decoration.  Have we met?

#3 made my teeth itch.  I hate fake pocket welts, shirts with no top button, and all other construction shortcuts that limit my wearing options.

#1 wouldn't work because it would force me to fold my ribbon trim in half over the edge, messing up my surface design concept.

I picked #3:

First I worked 2 cuffs together, with steeks in between.

Then I cut them apart.  The steek edges turn under like a hemmed edge on each end. Live stitches are held on short circular needles in this photo.

I won't sugar-coat it: getting the location of the opening right on the needles, then centering the pattern above it, then reversing everything for the second sleeve was not the rollicking hoot I had hoped for. Maybe I'm, dyslexic, but the whole right/left thing made my panties twist. But I prevailed!  Those cuffs are exactly where I wanted them, HOW I wanted them.  

And then the Norwegian book about Fana sweaters finally arrived from Australia.

This book answered all of my prayers for information.  And even though I don't speak Norwegian, I do speak photographs.  And do you know what's in every single photo of every single cuff?

Openings in line with the underarm increases.  Hundreds of Fana sweaters cataloged and photographed, and not a SINGLE ONE with anatomical, offset cuffs, like mine.  So even though I got it right, I'm still wrong.

I had bizarrely found the only photograph of the only offset-cuff Fana in existence, and killed myself to copy it, in a misguided attempt to follow tradition.

I know enough about knitting to understand that the techniques which become traditional do so because they 1) serve a purpose (getting Olaf's ham-hands through a close-fitting cuff), and 2) are simple to execute (cuff-opening located at underside of sleeve = intuitive + easy to knit). I should have listened to my creeping suspicion that multiple generations of Norwegian knitters were not working this hard.

I've decided to love my anatomical cuffs, anyway, in spite of their being anomalies.  Because now I have something interesting to tell my classes about Fana sweater construction.  I feel proud to have made this mistake for you, so now you don't have to.  

Just one more service I provide.

All Stars

My Fana is inching toward the finish line.  Yesterday I worked the neckline and center front steeks.  Wanna see?

If you've read your Elizabeth Zimmermann, you'll recognize this as a "Kangaroo Pouch" construction (Elizabeth didn't invent it, though, Norway and/or Scotland did). I worked a cylinder of knitting up as far as the base of the square neckline (the lower edge of the big star border).  Then I put the neckline stitches on waste yarn holders, and cast on a new steek in the following row.  

Here's a closer look at my neckline steek.

It's easier to understand the kangaroo pouch when you see it folded along the center front and center back.  See the square neckline?

Here's another front view.  Like my sexy red crochet steek?  I always use contrast yarn for crochet steeks.  Don't know why.  Just like it better that way.

After this photo, I cut the steeks open and sent it for a well-earned, relaxing bath in the kitchen sink.  When the yarn got wet, it actually smelled like sheep and hay.  Pure bliss.

View fullsize

After its luxury spa treatment, I made it straighten up and fly right.  One pin every inch, every edge.  I'm always amazed at this point how much knitting is in a sweater.  It's just so much acreage when it's all stretched out flat.

I'd call this roughly the halfway point.  Next I'll make sleeves, then armholes, then do the finishing.  

I made a mistake with my uppermost border.  It actually should have been another set of stripes, rather than more checks.  I'm not sure why I failed to check that detail before I knitted it. Looking at photos, I can't find a single Fana with checks up there; it's always stripes.  But you know what? I like the checks, and it's already cut, so there.  And it's a non-traditional Fana anyway, because I couldn't control myself and put those red stripes in.  Save me a seat in Knitting Jail.