steek geek

I've been knitting for almost 50 years now. What an amazing thought! I got my first acting role in the first grade solely on the basis of the fact that I could knit. I played Mrs. Claus in our Christmas play at school, and was on stage almost the entire play, knitting in a rocking chair. I did have one line:

"Santa, don't forget your scarf!!"

I've been given permission to knit a kingly vest, to kingly specifications. If there's one thing I know about knitting for those of the male persuasion, it's that those specifications have to be taken seriously! Otherwise, you might as well just knit a sweater for yourself, because the noncompliant garment will never be worn. Even compliant garments don't always get worn. . . .

Here's the original pattern picture.
My mandate includes a thinner yarn, hopefully with more of a gray tone. Here's what I have so far. You will note a plain knitted panel in between the 2 cables (those twisty bits) instead of a cardigan opening. That's because - hold on to your hats - I am finally going to try a STEEK.

A steek involves scissors and knitting; knitting and then cutting your knitting up the front.

That's what I said.

"Cutting".

Here's someone else doing it. (I don't know what's up with "Owls") And I'm going to master it now, too! 'Bout time.

First, though, I have to finish the vest. That's what makes this whole process so nerve-wracking: you don't cut the vest until the very end! If it doesn't work out well, that's a lot of work for naught. But people have been doing this for years. I figure it will be good for my nerves.

Knitting with scissors. Should be interesting!

(Oh, and I'll also be adding Elizabeth Zimmerman's afterthough pockets, which also involves scissors. I'm on a roll. . . .)