I have a bit of a love hate relationship with granny squares. On the one hand, they’re super fun to do. They come in all shapes and sizes (not just squares), numerous patterns and you can make them just about any color you want. The stitches can be simple with the traditional granny square, or you can get fancy by adding gaps or different stitches. In the moment of making a granny square the world is your oyster.
It’s usually only after I’ve gotten half way through a project and I’m staring at the growing mountain of granny squares around me that reality starts to set in, and I realize what I’ve gotten myself in for. While some projects, like a baby blanket, aren’t terribly large it takes a lot of small granny squares to make a decent sized blanket. Like, I made one that needed some fifty granny squares and that still only made a twin sized blanket.
And that’s just making the squares! Because do you now what you need to do every time you finish a knitted or crocheted item? You need to weave in the ends. So. Many. Ends. I could end up spending an hour sitting on the couch just weaving in the ends on all the granny squares I’ve made, wondering why I made the decision to do a granny square blanket. (If you have a hack or trick that lets you skip this step then please, tell me.)
And then there comes the actual assembly. That’s usually when the fact I may have made a bad decision sinks in for me, as I’m staring at this giant geometric jigsaw puzzle I’ve made for myself. Sure, It’s fun to lay all the pieces out into their proper place, but then comes the hours spent slowly attaching all the pieces together. The fact I like making funky shapes doesn’t really help all that much. Have you ever tried to assemble a hexagonal granny square blanket? There is just no way to make a straight line attachment with that, no matter what you do there will always be one open flap that you need to go in and attach separately.
Adding a border at least lets the project end on a high note (At least until you have to weave in EVEN MORE ENDS.) and I can pat myself on the back for having finished the project. It usually takes about 6 months for how much stress a project caused me to wear off enough for me to view it with rose colored glasses and start going “oh, it wasn’t that bad. It was actually pretty fun! Maybe I should do it again.”
Inevitably the pattern will start all over again and I will someday soon find myself staring down at 5 dozen granny squares going “oh no.”
