Jennyarn

It is probably no mistake that the word steek contains eek!

Use of scissors to cut through days of knitting stitches? It sounds counterproductive
if not insane. Yet that is one way to turn a woolen sweater into a cardigan.

Except maybe my sights were set too high. For every last bit of information I found
on achieving good steek results did not take into account my particular case! I guess
there is some law of averages to that effect, eh? I felt bleak. Something vital always seemed missing, something to convince me to proceed ahead. In the case of Saga, the steek would occur right at the end/beginning of round. With nine colors to the cardigan, this is a juncture of a great many yarns ends.  Those untidy yarn ends were flailing about everywhere, making a considerable mess. Should I tweak them left and right, weaving them in away from the steek?

Not wishing to freak over a steek, I sought the advise both of fellow Lopi knitters and fellow stranders on Ravelry yet the process remained nebulous. So armed with much information and trenchant question marks, I did the best I could. I sewed by hand two vertical columns. Then I ran a bright orange cotton yarn through those sewn stitches so they’d be easily visible. Then - eek! - I steeked! I cut in between the columns. Not exactly sleek, but by some crude measurement I suppose it worked. I’d be eager to sneak a peak at how an experienced steeker would have approached the Saga steek. But enough of the mystique of the steek. Here is the finished Saga cardigan which I sent to my sister for her birthday.

I used a separating zipper with two slides. With two slides I figured
the cardigan could be worn with any degree of being opened or closed
thereby, I hoped, increasing its wear-ability. Fantastique.

Speaking of steeking brings on a nap streak for Oliver.

Saga by Védís Jónsdóttir from Ístex Lopi No. 27