One of the first things I noticed was that the hallmark of my alleged finishing (if it doesn't unravel, it's finished, right?) is ends sticking out all over. I darn them in and then deliberately leave long ends, so I know they won't pull back out. My memory isn't what it used to be, but I think this is what started the habit:
This is the infamous silk throw that I've bitched about before. It's tussah silk that was full of twigs and lint and gunk. When I knit this, I'd never worked with silk before and didn't realize even tussah noil is slippery. So instead of joining in new yarns at the edge with a nice big freakin' knot, I joined them in any old where. Once I darned the ends in, I clipped them short, and washed the blanket. When it dried, I realized the ends had pulled loose. Thankfully reason prevailed and I didn't cut them again; they'd just keep pulling out until I had lovely holes in the knitting.
Some more 'ends stuck out' that I have no intention of fixing:
A raw, unfinished, rather horrifying steek, after cutting:
A game of shove-the-end-anywhere:
Fucking KNOTS:
And just so you know, seed stitch in the round, with stripes? You will NEVER be able to join in new colors without it looking like a total clusterfuck:
Take comfort. You are not alone. I hate finishing. When I say "do it right", I mean sewing straight seams and making it look nice from the OUTSIDE. Fuck the ends.
Oh, and Sekhmet helped.
Fucker.
Anyone curious about the thing Sekhmet's standing on (which is also the source of the seed stitch and green ends photos, plus the scary steek), it is the Starry Night Ruana Thingie. Details and better photos here.
In other news (since I use this blog as a sort of journal to keep track of the Goob's development) I got the first use of the infamous "Why?" today. She'll ask "How dat work?" and "What dat?" all the time, but this is the first time I remember her saying "Why?" THE FIRST STEP ON THE ROAD TO HELL!!!
Oh, and about the cleaning thing? Um. Yeah. My living room looks like this:
And... there are... ends... to darn in on the hex jacket.
Heavy sigh.
4 comments:
Vastly overrated pastime, sewing in ends. I mean, the thing's *finished*, isn't it? what's all this sewing seams and darning thing about... Speaks the woman with three very-nearly-finished sweaters in a basket next to her...
Okay? My big finishing shame? If I have to join yarn in mid row, I knit the new yarn and the old end together until the old end is gone, and on the way back, I knit the new end and the new yarn together until the end is gone. I can usually spot the join if I look closely, but I have yet to be walking down the street and have someone jump up and down and scream "HEY YOU LAZY-ASSED PRETEND KNITTER, YOU CHEATED!" So I'm gonna keep doing it. I do the same thing when I'm crocheting--especially something with striated yarn...
I HATE weaving in ends.
Your house is a showcase compared to mine--I know that sounds like I'm just saying it, or exaggerating, but really--messes increase exponentially per child, and when they get older, it just means their fucking shoes take up more room on the floor, not that they have less mess!
When I did my Master-knitter samples, I carefully wove ends in tracing the line of the succeeding few stitches. Since then, only in things destined for contests. For myself, any old way. Hell, for the Master Knitter things, I even spit-spliced. who has the time?
Your house looks remarkably clean for a place with a two-year-old. And Sekhmet keeps down the rodent population, so what's the problem?
Compared to my living room in child-raising days, yours looks pristine. My first reaction: where are the balls of cat fur?
Ah, but you have that lovely OCD husband. I could have used one.
Obviously, you're OK with the constant interruptions from Goober. I was NOT. Couldn't think.
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