The joy of finishing

I started this sweater back in January. You may remember it from this post here.

It wasn't technically difficult. No cables or fancy needlework, just straight stockinette, back and forth. Well, there was the i-cord bind-off edging that was a little tricky at first, but mostly a cinch.

That's why I thought I'd be wearing this thing by February's end. Somehow, though, this is never how it actually works out.

It's the damned stripes, I tell you. Those were my mental roadblocks. Or, at least, my motivation killer.

Fortunately I had enough gumption to finish this - maybe not in a single month, but four - or close to five. If I added up all the hours, I think it's safe to say I spent at least 70 hours on it. Actually, I don't even know.  Probably more. I lose track of time. I listened to complete Sunday programming on NPR on several different occasions, watched a bunch of movies like Coal Miner's Daughter, Knocked Up, Young Sherlock Holmes, Rebel Without a Cause; back in January I knit along to televised football games; I listened to a bunch of podcasts during my knitting lunch hours. I sometimes knit in silence, or while visiting with company. 

On the day I finally finished it, I was at home battling a stomach bug. It happened to be the day of the manhunt and capture of the last Boston marathon bomber. I watched the coverage all the way to the finish line - the symbolic one, at least, where the law enforcement and medical teams were barreling through the streets while the locals cheered them on. I was ready to move on from that moment in time for more than one reason, but for all those reasons I was very excited (and nauseous).

That evening, I read an excerpt from Michael Pollan's new book that discussed why we bother doing things that other people can do for us, oftentimes better than we can, and at a lesser cost (especially in terms of time). Specifically, why waste our time cooking when it's fast and lovely to go out? Of course if you know Michael Pollan you'll know he argues that it's important to cook at home as much as you can (read the excerpt here - it's a good one). But his words rang especially true for me as I applied them to the fact that I just spent almost five freaking months knitting a sweater. Why would I, when I could have purchased a couple or more cardigans at my local retailers in the meantime?

Here's why: I love wearing this sweater. I picked out the colors, I know where the yarn came from. It fits me like a glove. I know that, unlike cheap clothes I could pick up at H&M in any size or color, this sweater's life is in my hands. There is no other. I found more pleasure in the hours I spent working on it and watching it take shape than the instant gratification that lasts about a week after buying a clothing item on a whim.

I know not everyone is meant to knit (nor am I meant to make all my clothes), but I do believe that everyone is meant feel this particular breed of joy for having done something from start to finish, with an end product to be proud of. Whether it's a loaf of bread, a pint of beer, a framed painting, a song, a garden tomato, a website. I'd love to hear what that is for everyone I know. This will totally be my conversation-starter at my next party.

(because it's been too long since you've seen my cat)