For the past nine and a half months, I worked (without a pattern) on a project that was to be a birthday present this coming April for my daughter, a purple afghan for her couch. I had started one for myself that she admired, so I decided to make her one in the color of her choosing. The only thing I didn’t like about mine was it was too narrow which meant I would have to do it in three panels and tie them together. After I had the first two together, I thought, no way. So, I began on my daughters with what I thought was three times as many stitches – hence one panel.
I used circle needles and put all of the stitches on that I could fit. I also doubled the yarn, using two skeins at once, to make it a heavier throw. Then I began nine months of knitting, knitting, and more knitting. Everywhere I went, I took my bucket full of yarn and the ever growing afghan. It became increasingly cumbersome to deal with and I had to fashion stoppers on the ends of the needles when I wasn’t knitting to keep the yarn from slipping off.
Well, I finally came to the end of the yarn, literally, the end. I had gone back and bought all of that color – of course they have discontinued that particular brand – and checked every store in three cities for more. I kept knitting but it never got wide enough to look like an afghan. So, with no more yarn to be had, I finally gave up and began the arduous task of tying it off. As the scrunched up blanket began to unfurl itself across my lap, and then across the couch, and then across the floor, I realized I had put on far, far more stitches than were necessary (next time I will count). I now have a two-couch long afghan that is wide enough to cover your lap, but only your lap, not your legs mind you, just your lap.
I’m sure it will take far less time to rip out than it took to knit together. The bright note is that I didn’t tell her WHICH birthday I was giving it to her.