The Great Pumpkin

I had this wacky idea that I would finish my Nuclear Pumpkin sweater before the weather turned cold. Then, as the sweater progressed, I increased the challenge and told myself I'd finish it the week of my birthday (partly as a present to myself, mostly to free up time for holiday gift knitting).

Well...I totally did it! I finished it yesterday, with ONE YARD OF YARN to go on the skein I was using (although I do have one more skein left and tons more to spin). I wove in all the ends and sewed up the armpits (badly). I tried it on and it fit ODDLY, but one thing I have learned the hard way about wool garments is that you have to Block The Holy Living Crap Out Of Them to get them to hold their intended shape.

So, I soaked it in wool-friendly soap in my washing machine (no agitation; just soaking), and then I spin-cycled it, and then I soaked it again in clear water, and then I spin-cycled it again. Then, while the wool was damp and malleable, I got out my blocking board (read: large piece of sturdy foam insulation board - Maxim's brilliant idea), laid the wet sweater-blob on it and forced it into approximately the shape of...well, me...and mercilessly pinned it into place. It's just like stretching a canvas, except the canvas is made of sweater.

Let us all cross our fingers that, by the time it is dry, it will fit perfectly. Or at least not badly. Note to sweater owners: you can block store-bought wool or wool-blend sweaters if they are misbehaving. Say you have a hem that curls up or ribbing that pulls in too much or maybe it's just a little too tight in the hips. A good, vicious blocking might fix it.

I have come to terms with the fact that I am obviously a "process knitter" vs a "product knitter". As soon as all the lose ends of yarn were woven in, I wanted to shove my new sweater in a drawer and start on the next thing. It took a great force of willpower for me to block and pin it and THEN start on the next thing.

I will take pictures when the sweater is dry and I can model it properly. Unless it looks like hell, in which case we will never speak of it again.