In truth, though I have 4 more of these planned, I thought I'd have to throw myself off a bridge from boredom if I tried to make another right away. It's a fine little project but, really, I'm only making these hats to get rid of yarn ends. And they're too fussy in the crown decrease section to be an entirely enjoyable knit.
I was feeling trapped by the hats until the following thing occurred to me:
My fave part of knitting is, by far, the planning. The knitting is simply the execution of the vision, which is probably why I'm mainly a "monogamous knitter" (one who staunchly sticks to one project at a time). But, when you've actually done 25 project's worth of planning, and everything's there and cataloged (including the queue that reminds you of your knitting responsibilities to achieve the end goal), why not switch it up? It's not like I'm going to forget something. That yarn will still be there, assigned to that project. I feel this process has provided me with a bit of latitude to explore other planned projects that still need to be done.
Which is why I've returned to the Karner Wrap, my second-longest, in-process project (after the Knitted Boucle Jacket, recently discussed - and, as yet, uncompleted). I decided, since it's already on the freakin' needles, and it's not going to finish itself, that I might want to give it another go. It's simple stockinette (with ribbed edges) but the yarn makes it a mighty complicated knit.
Look, if the sample is anything to go by - or my progress to date - this project is going to be amazing when it's done. The yarn is irregularly slubbed, of different gauges. The colour is gorgeous. The bamboo / cotton fabric produced is truly textile art (and as wacky as textile art tends to be - but with more cool factor than it usually has). Plus, it'll be totally useful and wearable through all seasons.
But I don't recommend that you go out and knit this thing. It's a fucking commitment. I just returned to it with gusto and I can still only get through a couple of grams in a sitting (and maybe 6 grams a day over hours of concentrated knitting). The unused ball weighs 100g. Furthermore, the yarn is plied. Yeah, it's thinner than cooking string and it's freakin' plied. That means that ones sharp pointed needles (and you do need sharp to get through the loops) inevitably strike between the plies, semi-regularly, and you end up having to carefully unknit the stitch to avoid split yarn (which when your yarn is dental floss can result in a mere hair of yarn holding the stitch to the needle). Then there's the ease with which you can knit into the stitch below the one you're going for, which leaves what looks like a hole. Or the accidental knitting of 2 stitches next to each other (that lump together) - since the yarn is of many different thicknesses, it's impossible to tell what's going on at any given time. Of course, one can drop a stitch and not realize it for 20 rows because the texture of the yarn is such that the stitch holds itself in place, until it doesn't.
My point is that any beginner would lose her mind knitting this and even an intermediate or advanced knitter can't take it on with any facility because the yarn has special needs.
I don't know that the means will justify the ends, but I'll keep you posted. And I am seriously considering going back to finish that Boucle Jacket next. I know I say this occasionally, but I cannot believe that I have 80 per cent of a gorgeous wool jacket just sitting there ready to be hand seamed and machine "buttonholed".
The joy of not buying new yarn is that you really get to experience the yarn you already have. And let's face it, all of that yarn was new at some point.
Anyone made the Karner Wrap? Would you ever make it again? Do you like the fabric produced by Abrazos? Let's talk!