I do not know why this always happens. I admit quite freely that I am a procrastinator, but when it comes to knitting projects I’ve actually been pretty good about getting started early enough so I have time to finish. This is likely because knitting is fun, unlike doing taxes, writing term papers, or cleaning the house, and since I start feeling a little antsy if I don’t have at least one project on the needles, getting my gift knitting out of the way isn’t as hard as tackling most other things.
And in my own defense, I had actually mostly finished my Mom’s mother’s day present by last weekend….except that when I seamed up the shoulders and laid it out I realized that the pattern I’d selected was simply not going to work with the yarn I was using, and there was nothing to do but rip out the entire thing and start over. Surprisingly there was no wailing or weeping or gnashing of teeth, and actually very little swearing. I think I am getting used to this.
So when I say that I have spent this entire past week - every free moment - knitting, I am being very literal. I ripped out the whole thing Monday night. I also ‘swatched’ up the first sleeve – which, it turned out, I had to redo half of, but at least I had something started. Tuesday I woke up with a sore throat and decided to stay home, where I alternately napped and tried to talk my body into being healthy again, and knit. All week I have been getting up at 5 (or earlier) every morning, going to work, then coming home and knitting until the wee hours of the morning, before staggering into bed and then waking up in too few hours to start the process all over again.
However, I did it. My fingers are streaked with an interesting turquoise blue color because the yarn was a bit overdyed and the tips of my right first finger and thumb are strangely numb and I am unbelievably tired. I may have been frantically seaming the last sleeve on, and hastily tacking on the hook and eye for the front closure on Sunday morning (I sat on the floor of the sanctuary to do this – luckily I wear bike shorts underneath my skirts because otherwise my friend – who was there mainly for moral support – would have gotten flashed). But I got it done, and I don’t think I am being modest when I say that it is absolutely gorgeous and I am more than a little proud of myself. Here are pictures of my mom in her new sweater: front, back, and side views.