I remember now why I have never really taken my book on knitted teddy bears seriously. It's the finishing work--sewing all those tiny, nondescript pieces together by hand, stuffing with just the right amount of fiber fill, embroidering faces on them afterwards. The knitting itself is a no brainer. Anyone who can follow directions can knit up the pieces, although I've never figured out exactly why pattern writers insist on knitters making two identical flat pieces to sew together afterwards, rather than just having the whole thing knit in the round. It seems so much easier to skip the whole sewing up phase and spend the time knitting happily along in one piece.
So, this collection of oddments is what resulted from following a pattern for a knitted bunny.
It doesn't look like much, except a whole lot of finishing work in order to make some sense of it all. I placed the eyes and sewed on the ears, only to find that the ears were uneven and the eyes looked slightly reptilian--a little unnerving on a disembodied and slightly overstuffed head. This was not the time to think of names for the poor creature.
The arms and legs went well enough until the directions said, "Sew head into place." That's it. No tips on how to stabilize the neck without over stuffing, so I over stuffed and sewed the head on, mostly just to keep those eyes from staring at me. The nose pointed resolutely to the ceiling and would not be put in any other position. Out came the seams for try #2. Unstuffing the head to an acceptably squishy state, I again sewed it on. It flopped back like one of Sweeney Todd's poor victims and bore a hideous lumpy seam, so out came the seams again for try #3. A little more stuffing and another attempt at repositioning, another attempt, and another, until finally, after six tries, the head is on and, bless me, that's where it's staying. A nice bow around the neck will hide the ropey scar it now bears as a testament to the futility of knitting tiny flat pattern pieces. I embroidered a pink smile on it's pathetic little face to hide the reality of the suffering it both inflicted and endured.
It doesn't look so bad now, but I'm not naming it. It's just too painful. My mind is working out how to knit the next one in the round with far fewer pieces to alleviate the pain and suffering. I'm thinking of applying to become the poster child for seamless knitting.
