Waiting and more waiting...
It took me almost twice as long as I had planned to finish the lace section of this shawl! As predicted, however, I got the true hang of the lace pattern by the end of the second repeat. That's always counter-productive, however, because I think it's the repeat closest to the edge (which is almost always repeat #1) that you see most. I don't like that your eye is drawn to the segment with the most mistakes. I want your eyes to focus on where I've gotten the thing right.
Still, I'd be willing to bet my next book's advance that no one ever stops me on the street and says, "Hey! You missed that yarn over and that SSK is one stitch over down there by the edge. Take that off and hide it.” The Yarn Perfection Police will not be taking me in anytime soon. I don't strive for perfection in any area of my life--motherhood will pretty much knock that right out of you in the first year.
I'm still up in the air (no pun intended since I'm writing this on an airplane returning from my daughter's lovely college graduation ceremony from College of Charleston) about the color. I worry that there's so much going on in the four-ply multi-color fiber that you won't be able to see the beauty of the lace pattern. Of course, you can't see anything right now because it's unblocked lace, which is visually rather close to seaweed. Purple seaweed in this instance.
Graduation ceremonies are long affairs. You wait in line to take your seats (30 min in this case) you take your seats, you wait a long time (1.5 hours in this case) for the ceremony to start, you wait breathlessly for your offspring to saunter across the stage and accept that oh-so-expensive sheet of paper (about 1.5 hours in this case), and then you wait another hour for them to go through all the other precious offspring getting their expensive sheets of paper. Start to finish, our graduation stint was a 4.5 hour affair. Yes, I brought my knitting. There's no way I could make it that long in a folding chair without knitting. I’d become a cranky mess without my knitting. I wanted to be wearing my button that says "I knit for your protection" in case anyone got put out about my knitting during a ceremony, but I decided that wasn't really a smart move. Besides, it was a gorgeous day in Charleston and everything worked out just fine.
My son graduates in a gym (yikes! bleachers!) in three weeks. Will I bring my knitting? You bet! And maybe I will wear that button after all.