Lori the Llama, or why procrastination is bad

Hi internet! I'm still alive, just at school and really busy (classes, activities, worrying about what to do with my life, etc) so not knitting so much.

Although I did make a sweater.

OK, it was for a llama.

What happened was this. The first home football game of the fall, a big event for the marching band, would take place this year on Sept. 20. Also occurring on Sept. 20 was the birthday of my dear friend Rosa, who is the drum major of the band, and as such wears a sweater kind of like this for games. Rosa is also obsessed with llamas. (Do you see where this is going now?)

Anyway, so I hatched my clever clever plan in about June, congratulated myself on my cleverness, and then spent the rest of the summer knitting other things and doing nothing to actually accomplish said plan.

All of a sudden, it was Sept. 19 and I had the following:

One stuffed llama
One front for a llama sweater
One "pattern" (some scribbles in the back of a notebook)

My Big Plan was to finish the sweater, put it on the llama, wrap it up, and leave it in the band room for Rosa that evening, nice and relaxed and in plenty of time for rehearsal at 7.

What actually happened was this:

4:30 Having finished the front and back of the sweater, I reach for my yarn needles to sew it up and embroider the front. Cannot find needles. Realize that I've lent them to my friend Sasha. No worries, I have plenty of time. I'll find them.

4:45 Actually, maybe I'll just call Sasha. In the meantime, I block the pieces I have. Now all I have to do is pick up stitches to knit ribbing for the legs, sew up one side of the sweater, embroider the YALE on the front, put it on the llama and finish sewing. Oh, and weave in the ends. Huh.

5:00 Maybe I'll just call Sasha again. Still nothing. Begin to feel the first little fingers of creeping panic.

5:05 Call all the other knitters I know. No one has a yarn needle.

5:10 Ah-hah! I'll just go buy one!

5:15 Yarn store closed at five. HELP.

5:19 Keep making phone calls. Finally locate a needle, but she can't bring it until 6:30. OK, fine, I'll just sew fast.

5:30 Pick up stitches to knit ribbing for legs. Knit faster, knit faster. Call Sasha again just for kicks. Nothing.

5:45 My friend Sarah comes in.
Me: SARAH HAVE YOU SEEN SASHA?!
Sarah: Um, no...actually, I just came in to see if you wanted to--um...why are you sewing a sweater for a horse?
Me: GET OUT OF MY ROOM.

6:15 Legs finished. Where are my needles?!

6:30 In the band room, hiding from Rosa in a back room and embroidering the letters.

6:45 Finish the embroidery. Sew seams faster than I have ever sewed in my life.

7:15 Finish sweater, wrap it very sophisticatedly in white copy paper and Scotch tape. Make a birthday card with a sharpie. It looks like a six-year-old made it. I don't care. Stash the oddly-shaped package (it looks kind of a sarcophagus) for Rosa to find.

7:20 Take my seat in rehearsal. Heart pounding oddly fast. Why do I always do this to myself?!

So, lessons learned:
1) Do. Not. Put off the execution of your brilliant ideas until the last minute.
2) Make sure Sasha has her own needles next time
3) If I put as much effort into my schoolwork as I do into silly presents, I would be...well, probably still unemployable, actually, so never mind.

But the result?



So cute! I think it actually looks like a drum major sweater, and it fits the llama pretty well. And it all ended well: Rosa was happy, the game the next day went great, and I learned my lesson.

Maybe.