on finishing

I have a mild disinclination, a frigidness, sometimes a full out antipathy towards finishing things. Textile things, that is, no problem finishing food. Sometimes my drive peters out a short way into a project, but often a project sprints to the homestretch then decides to take a little stroll, sniff the sage, sneak in a siesta. It's the last steps, the second sleeve, the hiding of ends, the twisting of fringe, the final manipulations that hold just about as much intrigue for me as a "See Spot Run" book. And then there's the added fear that one more addition might make all the difference between "nice hat" and "sheeyat that's sweet." But the benefit of making something for somebody is that they eventually want it, at least theoretically, in which case a touch of pressure carefully placed can force the finishing of said object. Such as this one:



Not the best view, but then mine is not the best head. Meanwhile, one striped arm warmer is done and another is considering whether it wants to contain an entirely different palette of colors. My triangular headscarf is well on its way and the remaining yarns from the hat have made a pact to band together against all comers (and hence are hopelessly ensnarled in my bag).