Gauge Exposed

(From Wikipedia)
In knitting, gauge is the number of rows and/or stitches per length/width of a knitted fabric, e.g., "5 stitches/inch and 7 rows/inch in stockinette stitch".

(From Me)
In knitting, gauge is the fool-proof system of measurement that undoes me every time! e.g. as follows:

This weekend I made pumpkin pizza. We ate the pizza. It was yummy, and now there is nothing to show of it. I also knit two sweaters and three huge hats. Can you guess why this is all I have to show for it? (no we didn't eat the knitting)

The answer? "Gauge." From now on, please pronounce this word in a deep, malevolent and disapproving tone.

When pigs become astronauts, the process of "gauge" will work for me. Until then, I am destined to knit baby sweaters that fit my husband, and hats for two-year-olds that don't fit my fist!

As I considered my amazingly unproductive weekend I experienced a growing conviction that "gauge" does not and will never work for me. Here's why:

First off, it discourages creativity. "Gauge" requires the repetitive knitting of insipid little squares so many stitches by so many rows. These squares are then tediously measured. If they are found unsatisfactory, a scientific method of needle substitution is required. This subsequently leads to more little squares. A robot would be perfect for the task.

When the insipid square does finally measure satisfactorily, a second discouragement follows: Word-Problem Math. Here's an example: "If my 7 stitches and 5 rows give me a square 2 x 3 inches, how many stitches do I need to make this sweater 20 inches around and 11 inches high. Also how many stitches do I need to decrease so that I end up with for a 7 inch neckline?" My hate for math is not complicated: I have been allergic to any form of computation since the 7 x multiplication tables brought me to tears in front of my entire 4th grade class.

Thirdly and perhaps most importantly, the process of "gauge" is ALWAYS the same. I cannot do things the same twice. It is not that I am so much opposed to it, as that I am utterly incapable. If I try, a large koala bear in my brain takes over and thwarts my efforts. This is why I wake up in the morning with my contacts still in--when the night before, I specifically went into the bathroom to take them out, but brushed my teeth instead. I can't even sleep in the same bed every night. I'm a traveling sleeper. My house mates used to find me in the living room and sometimes on their bedroom floors. When we first married, I dragged my husband out to the sleeper couch in the living room--which involved re-arranging our living room to unfold it. We did this every couple weeks until he wisely suggested that we could just switch sides in bed instead.

Against my nature, I have submitted myself to the process of "gauge" (don't forget the malevolent tone) time and time again. I have done this with an altruistic hope that "this time" I will indeed be able to knit the piece I propose to make only once: smoothly moving from beginning to end. Despite my faithfulness, the process has never once lived up to my expectations. I have never yet made anything without stopping at least once to rip it out and start over. What have I learned?

"Gauge" is not my friend.

Goodbye, "Gauge"

.....Forever!