Machine Perfect

I like machines.  All kinds of machines.  ATM machines.  Dishwashers.  Automatic washing machines.  Sewing machines, lawn mowers - you name it, I like it.  Machines make our life easier and often do things better than we can.

 My response to those that wait in line inside the bank to see a teller whilst I whisk through my banking at the ATM, is that the machine never has a bad day.  The machine never comes to work tired from partying too late  or caring for a sick child  during the night.  The machine is never  in a bad mood due to a  a fight with the spouse/boyfriend/girlfriend or never sulky having been passed over for a promotion.

And machines never make a mistake.  They simply do the job they are programmed to do.  Like my knitting machine.  And its work is perfection itself.  Machine perfect.  Here you can see the back of my Cotton Concerto.

 Knit to past the decreases by hand, with all its hand-knit imperfections.  A beautiful thing in itself.  But look at the top half of the work - the half knit on the machine (in 30 minutes I might add).  See the perfection there?  A beautiful thing too.  But different than my work, for sure.

Blocking, I hope, will diminish the difference. Work out the imperfections in my hand work. Make the differences between the two styles  less visible to the passing eye.     If not?  Well, it's the back.  Out of sight,   out of mind.