Be warned. The following is a really long, drawn out and possibly boring account of my tormented yesterday.

Believe it or not, I am a relatively inexperienced knitter. I learn many things with each project. I haven’t worked with many different yarns. Some of what I think I know is based more on what I have read than what I have experienced first hand. When I see something stated over and over again as fact, I will tentatively believe it. This leads to my expecting certain results when venturing out into new knitting territory. Are you confused? I am.

Okay, correct me if I’m wrong, but my understanding of cotton is that it doesn’t block. Isn’t that right? Isn’t that a widely perpetrated fiber philosophy? So then why, exactly, is the sleeve of my mom’s merciless (mercerized) cotton sweater that I had to wash, laying all nice and smooth and flat and, well, BLOCKED!!! as opposed to the rest of the rumply and curly pieces??? Hmmm? Does anyone want to tell me why, when all over the place I’ve read that blocking a cotton garment is pointless because it is a fiber that does not like to be manipulated and will therefore appear unmoved once dry, my mom’s sleeve looks completely different from the pieces that weren’t washed? The defiant purl stitches that flank the cable have been whipped into shape. They are firm, they are uniform. Do you know how much stress and worry I could have been spared had I KNOWN this, say, several MONTHS ago? Sigh.

Don’t even consider talking to me about washing swatches. I don’t want to hear it.

If I’ve learned anything knitting this sweater, it is that mercerized cotton is wack. It is completely weird. I can’t predict it. I can’t control it. (Well, that’s not entirely true). I simply don’t know what to expect.

I think I can move on now….

So I’m frogging mom’s sleeve yesterday,

and I look a the pile of very crumply yarn, and I tell myself that if it blocked so well the first time, it’ll probably be good the second time too. I proceed to reknit. I am mildly concerned about how the new stitches will turn out, mainly because I am severely in denial. Three rows into it I decide to face the reality that this is not only a bad idea, but I’ve made a really big mess of things. Then I realize that I still have most of a ball of unwashed, un-crumply yarn to work with. I frog, cut, join, and begin again. After a significant amount of time, as I’m approaching the point of final bind off, it becomes apparent that I have too many stitches. I spend about five minutes comparing the two sleeves and trying to figure out how in the WORLD I could have miscalculated a second time, when I realize I forgot the bind offs at the VERY BEGINNING OF THE CAP SHAPING. Which means that I have not only wasted the last couple of hours, further drawn out the already long completion of this sweater, and really annoyed myself, but I had also crumpled new yarn. Don’t laugh. It isn’t funny. On the plus side, this newly crumpled yarn hasn’t been BLOCKED!!!, so it is still usable.

I’m finally getting tired of this story.

So I reknit the cap, correctly this time, and I am all done with mom’s sweater. Sans the finishing. I’ve seamed one shoulder. I am trying desperately to figure out how to pick up a whoooooole lot of stitches around the neck so I can knit the two rows of neckband. (I’ve picked up stitches before. I know how to do it. On mom’s sweater, it looks like crap. I think this is where the whole cotton thing comes in again). I would like to take this opportunity to say that while I have really enjoyed complaining about this sweater and its quirks, it has been a very satisfying knit. I’m not sorry I did it. I enjoyed much of it. It took for-freaking-ever. I will be happy when it is done and I’ve heard that it fits magnificently and the Smithsonian has called to ask if she’d donate it for the cause of art. What?