Confounded

From Middle English confounden, from Anglo-Norman confundre, from Latin confundere, "to mix together, to confuse"; from com-, "together" + fundere, "to pour". (American Heritage again.)

I was expecting many things of the Weird Partial Garter Mitered Afghan. Warmth. A sense of accomplishment. Years of Chicago Winters made bearable. Perhaps (dare I breathe the hope) even the elimination of the annual plastic wrapping of the windows.

I think it may be mad at me. Who knew it would resent these months spent in a knitting bag. It was a very nice knitting bag. I thought it was comfortable. Who knew it was harboring a growing resentment. Plotting revenge. (Did you know we anthropomorphize that which frustrates us? The greater our frustration and lack of comprehension, the greater the number and degree of human attributes we assign the non-human. Hence our tendency to talk back to our computers. Who says college is a waste of time?)

I sat down today sure in the knowledge that I had figured out how to make the mitered square afghan reversible. I was wrong. The attempts looked so bad I couldn't bear to photograph them. Full disclosure is one thing. Some things, on the other hand, are best left undocumented.

Okay fine. It can't be -- or, more accurately, I can't make it -- reversible. This is actually freeing. The back won't have the polish I'd hoped for, but I can make it tidy. Clearly this is the way to go. Sometimes the easy way is the right way. No more fancy finishes. No more flourishing the crochet hooks. Plain, straightforward seaming. I can do that.

I can seam garter stitch.

I can mattress stitch.

Apparently, however, I can't do both on the same item, whether I start at the outside and work in.

Or on the inner edge and work out.

This may be a bit unreasonable of me, but after all the knitting, I would like it to not look like a disaster barely warmed over when I finish it. I know it's possible. Just go look at Kay's weird partial garter miter back in the archives. (That's September 2006 you want. The 8th, to be precise. The 4th picture. Not that I have it burned into my brain or anything). Maybe someday she'll come to Chicago and give a tutorial.

Until then (in recognition that we're probably going to watch one of the Star Wars for Movie Night and to quote one of my least favorite characters), "My give up. My give up."