Fili Top Down Convertible Mitts from Unraveled Sheep -- Day 2

Knitting insomnia…

You may have experienced knitting insomnia.  I know it has happened to me before.  It is one of the dangers of late-night knitting. 

Knitting insomnia has a less dangerous cousin known as “just let me finish this row.” This cousin's dangers are directly related to the length and complexity of the row in question.  

Let’s face it:  many of us have stayed up past our bedtimes to get rows done.  Or tangles untangled.

But the cruelest fate of all is the discovery—right before bed—of a mistake.

Halfway through this section of the cuff (the portion of the mitt that covers your fingers when these are in “mitten mode”), I discovered I had been increasing several rows past the point where I should have stopped.  I discovered this error at the worst possible time—just as I was putting my knitting away for the night to go to bed.

It was not an easy fix—tinking several rows of two mitts on one circ is a complex process. I figured I had about an hour’s worth of rescue work ahead of me, and it was already nearly 11pm.  

“You can fix it in the morning, when you’re sharper,” I told myself as I tucked my knitting back into its bag and went to bed.

Notice I said “went to bed.”  Because I did not go to sleep.  No, I lay in bed for another 90 minutes attempting not to think about my wayward knitting. “It’s just knitting,” I kept telling myself.  “Lives are not at stake.  12:30 a.m. is not a good time to attempt a complicated knitting fix.”

Nothing doing.  You can already guess the end of the story:  Me, up until 1:45 a.m., fixing my knitting.  

So now I have “insomnia mitts” to go along with my “amnesia cowl.”  Knitting may be soothing, but it sure isn’t always peaceful.

Celtic Princess Braided Scarf from Yarn & Thread Expressions - Day 3

Chunky or Clunky?

I have to say, applying my Chunky Method daily goals to my knitting has been working well.  I don’t stress about whether or not I’ll get the project done on  time, which is exactly the benefit my Chunky Method gives to writing.  I’m not sure, however, if it would apply as perfectly to another project—say, a top down shawl where the rows get longer and longer or switching lace patterns to something more complicated.  This scarf is a long rectangle of identical cable repeats, and as such lends itself to calculations.

Cables are deceptively simple.  If you pay attention and follow the instructions, the hardest thing you have to do is pop a few stitches onto a spare needle and hold them out of the way.  

Until, that is, you mess up. Then, cables are killer.

Here I was, happily stitching along on my daily goal, pleased with my progress.  Then I noticed the egregious error several rows down.  One of those too big to leave be errors that sends your gut down out the soles of your comfy hand-knit socks.

Tinking cables is murderously tedious.  Undoing those twists makes me grunt and frown. And that’s not even the hardest part.   No, for me, the hardest part is figuring out which blasted row you’ve landed on when you start up again.  My anguish went something like this:

It’s got those purls right there.  It must be row 3.  Knit row three.  No, that looks wrong. Tink row while gritting teeth.  It can't be any of the even rows, so it must be row 5 with those 4 purls. Knit row 5.  No, that looks wrong, too.  Tink row 5 while saying bad words. Repeat for 1.25 grueling hours until every possible row has been tried and restoration has been achieved.

I’m back on track, but it hasn’t been fun.  “Chunky” is feeling more like “Clunky” today.  But I press onward!

Edie's Shoulder Wrap from The Knit Shop - Done...sort of

Feather and Fan and Frustration...

I’m guessing you knew how that was going to end up.

Restored--no, I won't let you't see the botched version

Yep, turned out I had to rip all the feather and fan out and start over. 

Good thing I wasn’t alone. My friend (and April 2012 Author Who Knits feature) Camy Tang was there at the writers conference where I was.  Not only is Camy a talented writer, but she is also ninja-level knitter and a master of the feather and fan.  If anyone could save this shawl, it’s Camy.  Conversely, if anyone knew it was beyond saving, it was Camy.  

The verdict was pronounced, and Camy and I began to rip.  And rip.  And rip.

We were sitting in the hotel lobby, and you could divide those who walked by into two distinct groups:  non knitters who wondered what the heck we were doing with all that tangled yarn, and knitters who stood in sad solidarity as we pulled irredeemable tangled mohair from its place.

To add to the pain, I didn’t have anywhere near the right number of stitches I should have had to start the feather and fan portion.  Again, Camy to the rescue!  That dear friend sat there and recalculated/rewrote the pattern for me so I could move ahead with the stitches I had.  Because that’s what a knitter does for a knitter in need.  When a fellow knitter comes to you heartbroken, moaning “fix this!,” you dig in your heels (and your needles) and lend a hand.

It’s not done.  It’s close, but I can’t bear to make you watch further.  Just trust that I made it out of the pit alive and am clawing my way toward the finish line.  

For everyone’s mental health, we’ve moving along to Austin for our next episode.  Don’t worry Edie, I promise I’ll stick it out until the end and post a photo one of these days!

Edie's Shoulder Wrap from The Knit Shop - Day 6

Doubt and faith...

I’ve installed a lovely system of black stitch markers for the pattern repeats and colored ones for the “corners” between panels.

Only I’m not so sure it’s working.

I'm just a bit worried I've made some kind of colossal error.  I have knit feather and fan before; I know what it is supposed to look like.  I'm pretty sure the yarn overs should be stacked on top of each other, and right now they seem to be leaning to one side like a drunken sailor.  Considering that I went to all this trouble to mark the repeats, it should be hard for me to mess up.  Should.  You've all had a front row seat to my ability to mess up things that should be easy.

Here's the grace in all this.  I could actually have messed it up, and I still might like the results.  This is lace--you can never really call it finished until its blocked.  The garments essential shape is there, it's jus the lace pattern that seems to be off kilter.  And, it bears saying that I don't really know it's off kilter--it just looks like it right now.  Here is one of those places where I set my fiber faith in the saying "Everything will be all right in the end. And if it is not all right, well, then it is not the end."

Worst case scenario (and I am not at all saying we've achieved this), if I don't care for the finished product, I can always find someone who loves it, and loves that it has been handmade.  Knitting is like hope:  it is never wasted.

Even if I end up ripping the whole lace pattern out (and no, I won’t make you watch—you get one more episode on this and then I let you move on to my fabulous trip to Austin TX), I still have a nice shawlette that just needs the last part to be redone a third time.  

And third time’s always the charm, yes?

Holden Shawlette from The Artful Yarn - Day 2

Beware row six!

Or, more precisely, beware your assumptions about row six.  There I was, delighted to finally be sinking my teeth—or is that my needles—into the lace section of this shawl.  I’d quickly figured out that like most lace patterns, all of the wrong side rows are straight purling (except the border).  So I’m gleefully watching The Daily Show, as is my frequent practice, and just as Jon Stewart launches into the interview I note I have just enough time to purl my way across a wrong side row.  I turn my needles with Jon’s first question and purl my way across.  Feeling cocky, I even flex my continental purl muscles to see if I can get across the whole long row without my left index finger cramping up from its continual dipping down.  Success!  Just as Jon delivers “tonight’s moment of Zen,” I finish off the row.

I lean over to the pattern to check row six off...and proceed to say some very unpleasant things I will not repeat here.

Row six, you see, asks you to KNIT the wrong side row.  Had I looked, had I read ahead in the pattern like good knitters are supposed to do, I would have seen this crucial fact.  Not ALL wrong side rows are purled in this pattern.  Some rows—some very important rows—are knitted so that a lovely little ridge shows up on the right side to highlight the scalloped edge now forming.

Of course, this row sits on top of many, many yarn overs, making tinking very slow and mighty tedious.  While it only took me about ten minutes to incorrectly purl this row, I took me nearly an hour to un-purl and re-knit the row.

You can bet I won’t make that mistake again—at least in this pattern!  As for the rest of my knitting days, well, I suspect I’ll botch a few more wrong side rows before I learn my lesson.

Hiawassee Handwarmers from The Needle Nook - Day 2

So now we cable.  My prior planning served me well here, as my cable section was nicely contained in my front needles.  I only messed up once, but in true Allie fashion, it was many rows before I noticed it.  The misdirected cable is so subtle that I didn’t feel compelled to go all the way down and fix it.  I’ve never been a perfectionist.

The color still delights me--there are so many lush tones in there!  You can always count on Malabrigo to come through with a stunning fiber.  Arlene has come through, too, by employing a really lovely cable pattern--something a little different than the standard “twist” and more like an elegant interweaving.  Combined with the pleasant rhythm of the ribbing that makes up the rest of the piece, this is a pleasant section that goes quickly enough to be satisfying.  I’m feeling especially smug in the fact that both will be done when I’m finished.

Don’t forget, DestiKNITters, that today is the last day to enter the Love Inspired Knits sweepstakes!

Lucy Neatby’s Udderly Divine Bag from Orange Kitten Yarns - Day 4

Ready for Pink...

Yes!  Finally done with all that cow, and on to the quiet inches of pink stockinette that will give this bag its “udder.”  Much as I love black and white, I’m tired of looking at it.

I’m also very tired of getting to the end of a stretch of one color only to realize I haven’t carried the yarn in back and I need to take it all out again.  I can’t tell you how many times this has happened in this project.  I think it’s because of all the color switching.  You get to a stretch of one color, and it’s like a raceway straightaway--you “floor it,” eager for some speed.  Then you realize you’ve left the other poor color hanging lost and un-anchored back at the starting line.  Tink, tink, tink, redo.  Sigh.  It’s annoying because I know better.

Still, like most projects that presented a challenge, when I look back at the completed section I feel a tremendous sense of satisfaction.  The primal “I made this” that drives why we all knit.  The interplay of color and texture that speaks to an inner need--even if that need is to be just a wee bit silly.

“Selbucozy” bottle cozy from The Sow’s Ear - Day 4

Lives are not at stake here...

The nice thing about this pattern is that it comes in two parts--one for just a can cozy, the other with an additional top collar to grace your bottle of suds.  We drink our brew in bottles around here, so now I’m heading into the top part of the pattern.  It should go much faster, seeing as I start decreasing in a few rows.

My only fault with this pattern--and I can’t even say it’s a fault of the pattern when you get right down to it--is that mistakes show up clearly.  You can see where I’ve botched it.  I tried once to go down and pick up the stitch--essentially to swap it out for the other color carried behind it--but it ended up being more noticable in the fix than the original mistake.  And of course I don’t find my mistakes until I’m five or six rows up, demanding an hour’s worth of ripouts and restitches.  I’ve never been a perfectionist, so I’m just not willing to invest that kind of time if it’s not a glaring error.  

This does not speak well of my character, I know that.   Lives, however, are not at stake here.  This is knitting.  This is supposed to be fun.

A friend joked that after the second beer, no one will notice the error anyway.  If the point is to keep my bottle cozy, the goal will still be accomplished.  It’s like our wedding photographer told us on our wedding day, “If you end the day as Mr. and Mrs., then the goal that matters most is accomplished--everything else is just details.”

When I think of it, some of our most treasured wedding photographs are the “outtakes.”

Good advice in life--and in knitting.

Spiral Pouch from A Knitted Peace - Day 2

Never get cocky...get coffee.

There are eight ribs to this pattern, essentially making a ridged parallelogram.  I figured that by the third rib I’d have the pattern down, more or less.  After all, it’s a simple decrease on one side and increase on the other to make the slanting sides of our piece.  By now, I’d like to think I know my knits from my purls, and can count higher than eight.

Yeah, well...

I spent Saturday morning at my lovely local library’s open knitting session, chatting with my knitting buddies.  I’m having a charming time...until I look down and notice that my parallelogram has taken a wrong turn.  I’ve got a corner where there definitely should NOT be a corner, and the latest ridge is clearly thicker than its previous cousins.

Pulling out your stitches is not fun, but having to yank out your stitches in public, well that’s less fun.  The fact that it took me two tries to find my way back into the pattern, even less fun.  Incompetence on Parade.  Ick.

The good news is that I’m back on track, but not taking anything for granted.  I’m keeping count of my rows on paper rather than trusting my brain.  It’s really best for everyone.  

Maybe I’d better go make some more coffee.

Cables Building Block from Knitting Temptations - Day 4

The Imperfect Show Off...

I admit it.  I’m a show-off.  I love it when people stare at these cables and get that all-impressed “oh, you must have such knitting skills!” look on their faces.  It happened again today whilst knitting in public.

Of course, these are never actual knitters.  Actual knitters--except for the very new ones--know that cables are all smoke and mirrors.  Razzle dazzle.  They look wildly complicated, but they’re not.  Cables are so deliciously, delightfully do-able!

The only hard part about cables is counting your rows so you know which row is the one requiring the cabling action stitch switcheroo.  And evidently, even this is beyond my mental capacity because I botched my latest cable.  It’s two rows longer than the other ones.  A finer woman than I would go back and fix it, but I am not so fine a woman. it's the cable on the top in this photo...c'mon, can you really tell?  It’s such a minor gaff and this is going to be a pillow for my daughter’s apartment so it’ll have Ramen Noodles spilled on it within weeks if not days (ooo, poor pillow!). I guess I’m not much of an artisan role model.  Do not let this fool you into thinking I don’t like this project or this yarn--they’re both downright wonderful.  I’ve just never been a perfectionist.   

Like EZ says (and I paraphrase), “If a man running for his life wouldn’t notice the error, it’s not an error.”  

It’s...character.

AUTUMN SCARF - Day 5

Life between the needles...

It amazes me how much knitting is like life and life is like knitting.  I don’t know about you, but life imitates art and art imitates life around my house.  I learn as much about life between my needles as I do anywhere else, which is why I think the craft has held such a fascination for me over the years.

This scarf isn’t perfect.  My misstep earlier in the pattern gives the thing a funky little curve on one end.  It failed to go in the straight line I intended.  And what life hasn’t taken curves we never planned?

Still, it is beautiful.  It gives me joy to lose myself in the rich color and the steady texture of the garter stitch.  I smile at the lattice work effect achieved by the yarn-overs on one end.  It’s unique, it's clever, and it is the work of my hands.

All these things brought me great comfort yesterday.  Life dumped still another medical obstacle in our family’s path, and I found myself stuck in “overwhelm” mode.  For a control freak like myself, that’s the most uncomfortable place of all.

I had a task list topping out over 40 items long, but I couldn’t think straight enough to do the next thing.  So I took a deep breath, made myself a cup of coffee, and went out on the deck with my knitting for half an hour.  Like it has every time, my knitting handed me back enough of myself to gain a foothold.  I let the marvelous mixture of prayer, fiber, coffee, and sunshine take a stand against the vague cloud of panic that engulfed me.  I let the stitches help me to catch my breath.  They did.  They always do.

Sure, I get scarves and hats and mittens out of knitting.  And that's nice.  But more than that, I get life out of knitting.  That is precious to me, and always will be.

AUTUMN SCARF - Day 3

Three little letters...

I’ve goofed.  

It’s a tiny goof, but tiny goofs repeated over and over...and over and over...well, they tend to grow.  

Somehow, despite reading five different repeats of this pattern, I missed the K2Tog after the groupings of yarn-overs.  Did I realize this productively early on in the piece, in the first crucial inches?  No.  I figured it out halfway through the scarf.

I suppose a woman of more character would have ripped the whole thing out.  Evidently I am not a woman of sufficient character.  

It’s not a disaster--yet.  And I’m willing to soldier on in the hopes that it only makes a subtle difference.  I’m banking that I still end up with a clever scarf, and not an indigo knitted jellyfish (see earlier pie reference if you’re confused).  If I am fortunate, I’ll just end up with a slightly curvier, slightly wider scarf.  The brilliance in this pattern is the yarn-over trim, and that’s still intact.  There may even be a way to drop the offending non-KTog’d stitch down in each repeat and fix it.  However, I’ll only adopt such drastic measures if the thing really looks funny once completed.

I’m curious, DestiKNITters, how strong is your sense of knitting perfection?  Would you frog a dozen hours of work to get it right or soldier on in the hopes no one notices much?

Seems to me this is a lovely place for the first-ever DestiKNITters poll: 

Click HERE to tell me what you’d do in my place.  I'll share the results in my next installment.

Davis Street Shawl from CloseKnit -Day 4

Well, now, ain’t it always the way...

If you’re going to make a big, ugly mistake that you won’t be able to undo, it’s never going to happen on the back of a shawl, is it?  Of course not.  The unfair law of the knitting universe is that such a gaff will happen in the most visible spot.  Right at the top edge, the part that will be near your face or tied in front.

And you know, it won’t matter whether or not anyone else can see it.  Good knitters might be able to spot it in the photo below, but most people probably will never notice it enough to point it out.  Nearly all of the population will never be aware enough of this mistake to make one of those intended-to-be-charming-but-not-really inquiries of “Did you make that?”  Translation:  because it looks hand-made (and not in the complimentary sense).

Whether or not you know the botched picot--which I have come to call the “wart picot”--is there, I know it is there.  Actually, from this photo, even my lovely dog Bella knows it is there. My goal for this project, to master the picot, has not been met.  I’ve gotten much better at the picot, yes, but about four inches from the edge the picot mastered me.

The lesson here is to wear it anyway.  To adorn my shoulders with the fruits of my craft because it is soft and fluffy and deliciously warm.  This is the kind of shawl I will curl around my neck when I have a sore throat or when I have a bad day.

Because the real truth of this shawl is that like the picot edging, one bad bit doesn’t kill the whole endeavor.

So I’ll block it lovingly tomorrow, treating it as tenderly as all my other shawls.  I’ll see if I can manipulate that wart to hide beside its mastered brothers and sisters. 

And I will wear it either way.

Diagonal Rib Infinity Scarf from Stitch(es) - Day 4

Um...yeah...about that...

So, here’s the thing about writing a knitting blog.  It’s loads of fun, and you get access to the most delicioius cupcakes on the planet not to mention meeting great yarn folks from all over.

Then those great yarn folks give you stunning patterns.  Which you knit.  In front of lots of people--well, digitally in front of ‘cuz you’re not in my living room or anything (and aren’t you glad??).

And then there’s the bit where you mess up.  Which, in blogosphere terms, means you mess up in front of everyone.  Then you’re forced to fess up about your mess up. [cue violins]

Which explains today’s post.

You know all those pattern instructions for circular needles that say “make positively absolutely triple-dog-certain that you don’t twist the stitches when you join them together”?  Twisting the first row is like crossing the streams in Ghostbusters: the world just might fall apart if you allow it to happen.

Um...yeah...about that “no twist” imperative:  I sort of botched it.  Worse, I was three inches into the knitting before I caught on.  Halfway done--that’s downright embarrassing. So much for the myth of the observant nature of writers.  My infinity scarf is twisted.  Rats. [cue ominous music]

I spent a half-hour kicking various living room objects, cursing my inattention and the fact that I absolutely couldn’t manage ripping it out and redoing it in time to stage a cover-up.  

Then it dawned on me: Infinity scarf + twisted loop = mobius strip = mobius scarf! [cue trumpet fanfare]

I have always wondered how these mobius things worked (although now having accomplished it and read the Wikipedia entry twice, I’m still not sure I know).  The pattern has a clear front and back, so it’s not an ideal set-up, but I’m going to make the most of it. [cue earnest music]

You never know...it just might work...it may even turn out awesome! [cue 1950's announcer crooning..."until next time..."]