First up: my aunt's pointy-edged tam. Its initial problems were partially resolved by blocking (yay for Soak and again for the incredibly useful giant Tupperware bowl, which is also great as a cover for rising bread dough and as a spinny place for yarn that's being measured for yardage.) Once it was dry, though, more problems emerged. You know how a squirrel can hold like a million nuts in its cheeks? Well, the bottom of this tam could hold about a million squirrels with a million nuts in their cheeks. Fail.

Then I got to see some and feel it and was tempted... except that there really weren't any colours I liked. And then, a few weeks ago, I found a skein whose colours I love. But I've been knitting it into a Thing the last two days and you know what? I don't love the way the colours fall. They're kinda blotchy - nothing like a stripe, nothing like a soft blur. More like somebody threw down a bunch of pastel powder in a fit of pique and stomped away. And the Thing never took shape into anything but that before I ran out of yarn. I haven't improvised a single thing in the past four months without having yarn left over, so I was totally unprepared for that.
Being stoic, I'm going to treat it like a swatch and measure the heck out of it and then roll it all back into a ball to do what with, I don't know. I think only felting will give me the colour blur I wanted and a bag is kind of a waste of Malabrigo, don't you think? It's too soft not to be touching your skin.
So. Learning experience: pairing stitches to shapes is very important, and so is checking yardage before beginning, and swatching not just for size but for colour when working with variegated yarn. I just hope my next crash course in disaster avoidance takes less than 12 hours.
2 comments:
a felted malabrigo hat, perhaps? Mitts?
Don't you hate when that happens? I love me some variegated yarn, but find that it sometimes looks nicer on the skein than in the knitting. But, hey, this is a process. And if it were all smooth, it would be much less interesting.
That is what I tell myself when disaster strikes.
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