Knit First, Swatch Later

So, I knit a February Lady Sweater.

It's...

It's done.  It's colorful.  It's big.  It's ugly.

Sometimes, I get caught up in the excitement of something new.  The entitlement of getting to enjoy myself.  The idea that I should be able to have what I want.  So, I knitted a sweater without swatching.  Did I mention that I also knit a sweater without measuring me?  Which may not seem like such a huge deal, except I had a baby in October and I have no clue what my current measurements might be.

My solution?

Knit the largest size.  Knit the largest size in a crazy hippy variegated brown and an avocado green.

I'm sure I don't need to go into details about the outcome...  Needless to say looks of horror grace the countenance of even the kindest citizens when I wear it.

I blame myself entirely.  I read and hear comments every day where people are righteously indignant that life involves work.  Whining that folks may not have what they want with head-spinning immediacy.  You mean I might have to do something to get what I want?  Life occasionally requires drudgery.  Swatching is my drudgery.  Swatching makes me WAIT.  If I had swatched for the February Lady Sweater I would have had a lovely garment, something I could be proud to wear.  I would like to give my "Don't let the February Lady Sweater happen to you" lecture to every person I hear complaining about the necessary - but perhaps less than thrilling - tasks that need to get done before...

Life is one giant sweater people.  Don't skip steps, and don't whine about the details.  Those details can make or break the end project.

Crafty Alien Vortex?

So, let me give you a little background on the building in which I live:

• We are semi-urbanites who like living in the city, but moved just far enough west that we could afford to own parking.
• The primary form of summer entertainment at our building is burning things in our side yard fire pit while drinking wine.
• The primary form of winter entertainment at our building is staying indoors.
• We all own dogs.  No seriously, all of us.
• We are the sort who receive the Crate & Barrel catalog, shop at Ikea, and there is an almost daily delivery from Amazon.com.

Sunday I braved the basement to do some laundry where I ran into a neighbor refinishing a table.  While tossing my load of darks into the dryer, another neighbor poked her head into the laundry room to ask if anyone had a glue gun.  She is making a holiday wreath.  I have just cast on and knit the first 16 rows of my February Lady Sweater.

My assessment?  Clearly our building has been trapped in some alien craftastic vortex.  This is so obviously how Martha Stewart created her kingdom, uppity building by uppity building.  She has formed an alliance with some uber-powerful race of paint brush wielding aliens.  Scary.

I am going to need someone to stop me if I macrame a plant holder.  Please?