If you find yourself with more than the normal 2 days away from work per week, do you make grand plans for what you will do with all those extra hours you’ll have in which you can do anything you want? Yeah, me too.
Then I immediately begin to screw up my own plans.
Don’t worry. I have the holiday food preparation down to an art form.
The eating? Got that down also. Five or six times on holidays.
Clean-up. That’s what DIL’s and son’s girlfriends are for.
Visiting. Ditto. I can almost do that in my sleep.
Things I want to do for me? Screw-up big time.
This year, I have been working on crocheting (that’s needlework done with yarn and a hook) my granddaughter a sweater for Christmas.
A sweater consists of 1 front, 1 back, 2 sleeves, optional trim.
By Thanksgiving, which by my calculation is 47 skeins of yarn before Christmas, I already had the body and 1 sleeve of the sweater completed.
The day after Thanksgiving I completed the second sleeve. That’s a Friday people.
On Saturday I began to assemble the sweater.
The specific directions for assembly of the sweater go like this, and I quote: “FINISHING: Pin garment pieces to measurements. Cover with a damp cloth, leaving cloth to dry.”
Yes, you read that correctly.
Once again, not to worry. I have been making clothes for at least 40 some odd years now.
I matched the first sleeve to the sleeve hole pinned, and sewed.
I then matched the second sleeve to the second sleeve hole and sewed.
I held the sweater up.
I admired my handiwork.
I noticed something was wrong.
Upon closer inspection I found one sleeve sewed with the seam to the inside of the garment and quite nicely I might add. The second one sewed just as nicely but the seam was on the outside of the garment.
This is not how sweaters should be made. All seams should be on the inside, unless you are on that show, Runway, Run-Away, or something equally as confusing.
I ripped sleeve number 2 off and redid it.
I then made the trim and sewed it around the entire sweater.
I held it up to admire.
I cocked my head.
I stood on my head.
Nothing I did made the sweater look like a sweater should.
I had sewn the sleeves to the sweater upside down. The bottom of the sweater was now the top and the top was now the bottom and the sleeves went straight up as if the wearer were being held at gun point with hands high in the air.
All of this and I had not been drinking.
I began to take the sweater apart.
Have you ever sewn a yarn sweater together with yarn of the same color?
You can’t see crocheted stitches from sewn stitches. By the time I was done I didn’t have stitches of any kind. I also didn’t have a sweater.
I snipped yarn.
I pulled threads.
I cursed the pattern instructions.
When I was done I didn’t have parts to a sweater, trim to a sweater, or anything that resembled what I had formerly crocheted.
I drank more and went to bed.
I was haunted by arm holes and sleeves all night long.
Sleeves ran at me. Armholes screamed my name in vain. Yarn balled itself up in knots. The scissors and needles ran off to Rio together for Carnival.
Sunday morning arrived.
My determination survived the night and I began to re-crochet (I don’t care if that isn’t a word) the dreaded sweater.
I completed the front, the back, the sleeves, and 2 bottles of wine.
I placed the sleeve into the sleeve hole. It didn’t look right.
I placed it on the back of the sweater. Still not right.
I tore up the single line of assembly instructions and did it my way.
It looked great.
It looked correct.
It looked like it might fit a person not being held for armed robbery.
One down, 17 gifts left to make.
At this rate I will need the following to complete the gifts before Christmas, 2 cases of good wine, a good pair of glasses, a gift card to the yarn store with a never ending balance, and written instructions complete with drawings, numbered garment pieces, color coding, and an engineer to read them for me. I can pay him in sweaters.
From the life and mind of:
Wanda M. Argersinger
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