Give 'Em an Inch, and They Take A Sweater

Recently, I asked someone -- a fully grown, not-at-all-tiny, adult male someone -- whether he would like to have a handknitted hat, or perhaps a pair of socks, or something else in that line.

He wants a sweater.

He is willing to wait.

He is willing to wait as long as it takes.

But preferably it would be ready by Winter Gift Exchange 2007.

(A sweater wasn't one of the options. Can I get out of this? I love this guy very much.)

A sweater.

(The dreaded Sweater Curse isn't applicable. Darn. No excuse there.)

A sweat --

(He doesn't realize what he's asking. But. Can't. Say. No.)

So, he wants a sweater.

Okay.

Almost definately blue (okay), possibly with vertical stripes but possibly "plain" (sounds negotiable), and definately made out of "very small stitches" (errrr . . . ).

I tell myself that I don't actually know what he means by "very small." But he is very particular, and I have a sneaking suspicion that, whatever he means, it is probably smaller-than-small to you and me.

Egads.

Let's set aside that new recurring nightmare of months of uninterrupted stockinette on size 000 needles.

On that point, he will negotiate. Or he will not get his sweater.

Moving on . . .

He doesn't know what type of yarn it should be made out of, except that it should:

a.) not be at all scratchy, shiny, or fuzzy, and
b.) not unravel when it develops holes (hopefully only after years of use).

(Aren't non-scratchy / non-fuzzy and non-raveling mutually exclusive? Help!)

Anyway, he knows even less about knitting terminology and possible patterns than he knows about yarn. And I am not about to knit another sweater that will never be worn. (Maybe I'll tell you about that someday.)

Never. Again.

So in an effort to better communicate about the design, I am resorting to something he knows very well: Samples.





(Swatches to you and me.)

I am transferring them to his custody this weekend.

Hopefully he won't go for the Baby Ull on 2 mm needles. . . .