A Little Good-Natured Ribbing

I have a long and complicated relationship with ribbing.  As a general rule, ribbing is not my friend.  Something about the knitting of it; the relentless moving back and forward of the working strand, the slowness of it; the constant battle with how much or how little it pulls in whatever edge it's applied to; all flummox me.  And it's done to death.  In the language of knitting, ribbing begins far more sentences than it deserves.  In spite of all that, I loves me some corrugated rib.  Just really dig it.  And on a sweater like this, where so much is going on with the yarn anyway, it adds just the right amount of interest and texture, without looking fussy or contrived.

Here's another of our friends, the crochet steek.  Is this photo out of focus, or is the ombred colorwork messing with my vision?  Probably both, but you get the idea:  Just like with the sleeves, reinforce edges first, then...

Steek Porn.  I like this shot, not only because I took it with one hand (my left!) while cutting with the other, but also because you can actually see the individual stitch ladder being cut, between the black crochet stitches.  And yes, I do believe that one day I will seriously jack up a sweater front by standing on my head to photograph the cutting of a steek while actually performing it at the same time.

And here is the demon/angel ribbing, not laying especially flat because it has not been blocked yet.  Note also the strange, volcano-like silhouette of the yoke, pre-blocking.

And a money shot of that ribbing.  This is a special tubular castoff, sewn with a tapestry needle.  Instructions for it and its gifted sibling, my beloved tubular cast-on (no waste yarn required!) are in the back of my book, if you are interested.

Which leaves only one more ribbed edge, this one with buttonholes (saints preserve us), a couple of armpit grafts, and some buttons pending procurement.  I think I'll do myself the favor of making the buttonholes first, and then restricting myself to a choice of buttons that fit them.  Clever plan, that.

What could possibly go wrong?