Saturday, December 26, 2009

I Wish To Register A Complaint

Alternate Title: Caveat Fucking Emptor

So. I knit, as most of you know. I figure with the economy being what it is that I would knit my gifts for my parents, & show my love with my hands insteada my wallet.
Well. I went out & bought Cascade 128 Superwash wool yarn (128 yard, decent variety of colors, but I be GADDAM if I will provide a link for you to go purchase any. You're on yer own there. I bought it in (ugh) yellow for my mother & blue for my father, to match a scarf I'd made him last year. My mother's love of yellow, usually with purple is a personality quirk that I put up with her only, due to the facts:
  1. I love my mother above all others & I would kill or be killed for her
  2. Those 2 colors, especially together makes my fashion sense feel dizzy. & I figured superwash wool would be easier for her in that she could just bung both items in the washer instead of having to jack around with regular wool, in which (perform all actions below GENTLY):
  • Put article in a sink with cool water
  • Swish or let soak for 10-15 minutes
  • Squeeze water from article
  • Lay flat to dry

It would basically take longer to cleanse the frickin things than it did to make it. Anyway.

So, like an idiot, I read the ball band & it said the suggest needle size for knitting this craptastic trainwreck of a yarn is #10. I didn't have #10's in circular needles & figured that it was an investment & bought them, then trundled home to make with the knitting.

I made mom's neckwarmer 1st, very generic idea, k2p2, join in the round & zip through the entire ball right quick. It knitted up nice, if a bit loose, but I'm a loose/average knitter & didn't think much of it. The yarn itself, I must admit feels soft & cushy & the yellow wasn't sickly or searing. So I toted into the bathroom to wash/block it (insert ominous music of your choice here)

It hit that water and GREW. I mean like, SRS. It was no longer a neckwarmer, it was a friggin' cummerbund for a HIPPO, no lie. & to make matters worse, the sumbitch had opened up from KNIT to NET. Well, ain't this a raggedy BITCH, thinks I, drying it on my bailing hot radiator & reskeining it.

Now I have a jumble of needles. I pondered, pondered like the very wind, as Xmas was breathing down my neck like a rabid reindeer. I finally chose #7 THREE SIZES SMALLER, as they were the next 16” circulars that I have. Flailing away I tore it off again & it went off without a hitch, even after washing/blocking. There was a smidge left over & I swatched it so I could get my father's hat right the first time. That last sentence is, I believe, filed under the heading: 'Famous Last Words'

There, ya squirrely shit, thinks I. I've got the number & the measure of ya and you WILL do what I tell you, god damn your strands!

Yeahhh, not so much. I'm not so good @ the maths, which I freely admit. As previously mentioned, I need to take off my shoes AND my shirt to count to 22. But if you give me a basic formula like, oh, say swatching/washing/blocking, it's not exactly rocket surgery. & I knitted that bitch tight enough to make my pinkies go numb.

That hat was BIG. I mean like, the aforementioned hippo coulda used it for a hammock. & the gapping in that hat was even bigger than the neckwarmer debacle. Well, WHAT the everloving moaning azure festering hell ass balls is up with THIS? At this point I'm on the verge of taking up smoking again in the form of sticking an entire pack of smokes in my mouth, still wrapped & lighting it on fire.

By now it was 10p Xmas Eve's Eve (12/23) & I was doing the gift swap Xmas Eve with my mom @ Friendlys. No pressure, you understand. After 20 healthy minutes of swearing myself black in the face, I flung the still damp knitted BUCKET onto my radiator & laid down for a power nap. I thank every god I can think of that I have insomnia or I would NEVER get anything done.

So, 2a came around & chased me out of bed to cast on with the mental revisions I'd gnashed myself to sleep with & started thrashing. I got it done & by Athena, done properly, but by the end of this rediculous little exercise, the neckwarmer had been named The Yellow-Bellied Crapsucker & the hat, of course, named the Norwegian Blue (“BEAUTIFUL PLUMAGE!”).

The moral of this story: I don't often bitch about products I don't like. If I don't like something I usually review it in a little snit either mentally or to friends/family, then never touch it again. If anyone else wants the crappy item, then by gods, go grab it with both hands & keep it away from me. People: I didn't even keep the scraps of the yarn left over, I flung them out with malicious aforethought & I have scraps of yarn under 12” in length in my Yarn scrap drawer. I will NEVER touch Cascade 128 Superwash again, not even with a 14” straight needle & I would strongly suggest you don't either.