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.

Metalouse Shawl from Knit Nirvana - Day 3

Bet you saw this coming...

You know how I’m always saying life is like knitting and knitting is like life?

Just like in life, cheating in knitting almost always comes back to bite you.  There I was, happily stitching along in my self-congratulatory cleverness, thinking I’d outwitted my own mistake.  It only took five or six more rows, however, for me to realize that NO, I could not just clip the yarn and start from the opposite end.  My right and wrong sides were correct back when I thought I’d switched them  In correcting an error that wasn’t really there, I just made a whole host of new ones.  

This meant…you guessed it…ripping out twice as many rows as I would have if I’d just admitted my mistake and gone back to make it right.  Sigh.  Another life lesson confirmed in knitting.  Cheaters never prosper—they only frog and tink.

My original error was holding the yarn on the wrong side of my work when I slipped the stitches.  Because I was pearling, I held it to the front.   But I was working on the right side—I should have held it to the back.  Had I really stopped to examine my work, I’d have seen it.  But no, I was too engrossed in progress to pay sufficient attention to process.

Mea culpa, DestiKNITters, I have led you astray.  Learn from me.  Ten 200+ stitch rows takes a LONG time to rip out and redo.  Save yourselves!

Students of my time management for writers class are probably laughing right now, recalling a favorite book title I often quote: "If You Haven't Got the Time to Do it Right, When Will You Find the Time to Do it Over?"

Knit Along: Sweetie Pie Baby Hat from String Theory Yarn Co. - Day 2

The trade-off...

Sometimes I get cocky.

I look at a pattern, I set my markers, and I cruise along like “I’ve got mad skills,” as my 14-year-old would say. I let my attention stray and, well, we’ve all been there. It generally involves saying impolite words, grunting, and undoing no less than three rows.

Now, you’d think the fact that I’m doing this in a hospital setting--where it’s forgivable to have my attentions focused elsewhere--makes it less humbling. Nope. It’s just as much a dent to my ego in the “Day Procedure Room” as it is in the comfort of my own home. Perhaps more, because there are people watching who know how devoted I am to the craft. I have probably boasted of aforementioned “mad skills” to at least one, if not all, of the nurses.

This makes me question my previous assessment that this project might make good travel knitting. I’m still not sure. Travel knitting can’t be boring--endless rows of stockinette won’t help the miles fly by like an engrossing pattern can. It becomes a trade-off: does to potential to mess up offset the engagement factor? Even after three rows of “tinking”...twice...I’d still say this pattern offers a worthwhile travel distraction. Allie-approved for the airport. The Department of Motor Vehicles. Hospital. Or anywhere you need to kill multiple hours.

The heart pattern, which offers the trap...ahem...challenge here, is too cute to hold a grudge against. I do wonder if the combination of blue and hearts might not come off--do hearts cancel out boy colors in something like this? Do real tiny men wear hearts? I remember hesitating to put my baby girl in anything blue unless it was covered in ruffles, simply because folks jump to boy if blue is involved. Chime in here, DestiKNITers, and let me know what you think.

Next up? The dreaded bobbles. Let’s see, when are we due back in the hospital...?