I usually smile a smug little smirk when I come across the knitting directions : “Being careful not to twist.”
“Do you think I’m an idiot?” I wonder to myself.
Today- I nearly proved myself to actually BE an idiot. The evidence started mounting on Friday, actually. That’s when I cast on the 10 bazillion stitches of icord for a new sweater. A lovely colorful sweater, in fact. Ruth Sorenson’s “Autumn Cardigan.” I had ordered yarn, swatched (I NEVER swatch) and finally, cast on.
After 3 failed attempts and several panic attacks concerning the length of the required icord, I picked up the necessary 327 stitches in 2 colors, and started the colorwork ribbing. Whew.
knit knit knit, purl purl purl. For nearly 6 days. This morning, After my second cup of coffee. (Optimum time to start knitting for the day.) I took a close look at the project in question. The colors are working together nicely, the ribbing looks good, I’m happy with the consistency of the fabric and the icord snapped into size once I started the ribbing, as it should have. “I am the sweater master. “ I thought.
That’s when I noticed the twist. A twist is NOT part of the pattern.
5 or six times I tried to smooth the stitches on the needle. I thought (hoped) it must be the way I was holding it. Finally, I laid it on the kitchen table, smoothed the 327 stitches carefully, and found it was true. I ws knitting a moebius sweater. CRAP.
I growled. (Literally, not figuratively) I stomped my feet. I frowned, and then, well after a careful look-round, I threw my knitting on the floor. My teenagers laughed. The dog sniffed to see if I had thrown her a colorful treat. The youngest put his fingers in his ears and continued watching “Sprout”. Feeling like QUITE the idiot, I picked it back up. I growled again. I showed them my moebius. They laughed again. I said it was a homeschool demonstration. They didn’t believe me.
I finished another cup of coffee. Then set about considering my options:
1) We’re buried in snow at the moment-(hence the boys are home to witness my shame) — so burying it in the yard sounded feasible. However, – I knew that (like things the dog leaves in the snow) as soon as the snow melted it would return to haunt the knitter who’d created it.
2) I considered ripping it all out. While beautiful in color— the Kauni is just too “sticky” and rough to have that be a best case.
3) I thought about losing it in the stash, viable option, but I would be sweaterless.
4) I nearly ripped back to the icord and started again…..
Finally- I decided to take a risk. This sweater is constructed with “steeking” . The sweater has stitches down the front that would later be cut through to turn a tube of knitting, into a cardigan. I looked at the twist. I found my lucky leopard scissors. I told myself “It’s JUST knitting.” Trust the process.
Then- I cut my knitting. *gasp* Typically- you would steek after a garment is finished being knit, AFTER sewing a line of reinforcement stitches. But, I didn’t have that much room. I held my breath after I cut. I picked it up. I looked at it. I had expected it to run like a cheap pair of nylons. It didn’t.
I CAREFULLY untwist it. I started knitting, again. By george… I think I fixed it! I immediately graduated from “idiot” to “brilliant”. Yet another reason to love knitting. Like a roller coaster of yarn…. one minute you’re up… the next one you’re down…. there is always another hill to climb!
Now I’m just hoping this excitement doesn’t smite me on the backside by having all the stitches unravel before I can reinforce them……and praying that my guage doesn’t result in a sweater of either mythic or microscopic proportions……. But- I can guarantee this— no more smugness when I read the directions.
Smugness = Over confidence. While Confidence = appropriate risk…
OVER confidence= stupid mistakes.
Lesson learned. (I hope ;)