I sat down this morning to work on Michelle’s poncho, ready to knit the final front and back points to give it a lovely kerchief shape. Simple knitting would be peacefully accompanied by reading a book on Christian symbolism. That’s when I took a good, steady look at the thing. The decreases at the bottom, where the pouch cups under the hypethetical babe’s behind, seemed very close to the head opening. This left a very small pouch, at least small if you are heaving around a sizeable one-year-old.
I check online. In every picture I could find of a person wearing a baby, the baby’s neck sits above what I will politely call the bustline. This seemed reasonable, so I slid the stitches on a holder and tried it on again.
There was no denying the awful truth. When the poncho is properly pulled down, the pouch sits barely above my navel. Add to this that the collar is too small and stands up stupidly. In other words, everything is wrong about this poncho after the first few inches. I tried to talk myself off the ledge at the edge of the frog pond, but there’s no way to move a big hole in the middle of a piece without re-knitting it.
So it was back to… well, if not square 1, then maybe square 2.
This morning, the poncho was 29 triangular inches of enormous stockinette-stitch glory. I needed to reduce it to 8″.
Gone were any ideas of super-spiritual semi-academic reading. I poured myself a stiff drink in the middle of the afternoon, put in a movie that involved looking at Harrison Ford (whom I find I have finally forgiven for being old), and ripped, from both ends.
Gone are the directions – I either misinterpreted them or they are on some kind of special crack. This time I am following my instincts. It now has a new, non-stupid-looking collar installed, and the pouch is nearly finished, along with its collar.
This project might take a little longer than I thought, Michelle. 😦