Knitting Lessons
No, I don't need them--I've been knitting since I was eight. But sometimes the very process of knitting results in life lessons...
To the point: I just had to rip back the piece I've been working on, entirely. I posted a picture of the sweater in my last entry. I hadn't gotten all that far--only about four/five inches of the back--but far enough that tearing it up was emotionally painful. A fair amount of time invested, and seemingly for naught.
What happened? Well, I dropped a stitch. Not usually cause for such drastic action, since dropped stitches can be picked up and any laddering remedied without much effort or angst. But this pattern is fairly complicated, with a couple of different stitch charts per row, and I was working with black yarn--black yarn with a bit of mohair. The pattern, the yarn color, and the yarn's texture all conspired to hide the stitch in question.
And then...I started second-guessing myself. Had I been working that portion of the pattern wrong all along? Maybe so. Since I couldn't find the dropped stitch, maybe it was never there in the first place (even though, deep down, I KNEW I had cast on the correct number and that I had been working the pattern correctly only a few rows before). And the same factors that were hiding the dropped stitch would also hide a surreptitious increase, right? So, rather than rip back a few rows (such a pain, what with cables and yarn-overs and such), I just added the missing stitch and soldiered on.
Until I saw it, laddering its way through the column of ribbing, almost directly in the middle of the back. I'd have to rip out at least half of what I'd done. And, truth be told, I haven't been all that excited about how the yarn was working up--that little bit of fuzzy mohair--the texture that was so friendly about hiding imperfections--also obscures the rather sharp edges of the pattern.
So I decided the best thing to do was to tear back, return the yarn to the stash, find a yarn that will enhance the pattern rather than hide it, and start again.
As I said--at least I was only a few inches into the first piece.
And that's where the life lesson comes in--sometimes you just need to admit the mistake, go back to square one, and make the attempt anew.
And they say knitting is a calming exercise.
Feh.
To the point: I just had to rip back the piece I've been working on, entirely. I posted a picture of the sweater in my last entry. I hadn't gotten all that far--only about four/five inches of the back--but far enough that tearing it up was emotionally painful. A fair amount of time invested, and seemingly for naught.
What happened? Well, I dropped a stitch. Not usually cause for such drastic action, since dropped stitches can be picked up and any laddering remedied without much effort or angst. But this pattern is fairly complicated, with a couple of different stitch charts per row, and I was working with black yarn--black yarn with a bit of mohair. The pattern, the yarn color, and the yarn's texture all conspired to hide the stitch in question.
And then...I started second-guessing myself. Had I been working that portion of the pattern wrong all along? Maybe so. Since I couldn't find the dropped stitch, maybe it was never there in the first place (even though, deep down, I KNEW I had cast on the correct number and that I had been working the pattern correctly only a few rows before). And the same factors that were hiding the dropped stitch would also hide a surreptitious increase, right? So, rather than rip back a few rows (such a pain, what with cables and yarn-overs and such), I just added the missing stitch and soldiered on.
Until I saw it, laddering its way through the column of ribbing, almost directly in the middle of the back. I'd have to rip out at least half of what I'd done. And, truth be told, I haven't been all that excited about how the yarn was working up--that little bit of fuzzy mohair--the texture that was so friendly about hiding imperfections--also obscures the rather sharp edges of the pattern.
So I decided the best thing to do was to tear back, return the yarn to the stash, find a yarn that will enhance the pattern rather than hide it, and start again.
As I said--at least I was only a few inches into the first piece.
And that's where the life lesson comes in--sometimes you just need to admit the mistake, go back to square one, and make the attempt anew.
And they say knitting is a calming exercise.
Feh.
Labels: knitting
posted by Cathy VanPatten at 9:29 AM
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