Joy and Pain

Apparently earnest blogs on Wednesdays. After two really really long work days. Days that end before they start - because you're at your desk all day. Alas, I have been fortified with Shredded Wheat and a glass of two buck chuck. I am ready to blog.



Let's discuss frustration. And sadness. I started a sweater for BF Juli during our trip to Colorado. I proclaimed victory over the process and knit throughout the week. Chanting in my head: I would finish, I would succeed, despite my best efforts to prevent myself from doing so (which, by the way, is a really long mantra, I personally would advise against using such a long one.) I had decided on Sitcom Chic in Cotton Ease sugar plum yarn. I swatched on the plane ride there. My brain farted because of the altitude. Or maybe it was the lack of food. We forgot cash. I swear the airlines change the rules all the time. First they won't take cash, then they won't take cards. I could have sold my body for a drink. The brain fart led to temporary insanity where I forgot that I knit tightly. Or maybe I remembered, I just forgot which way my needles size should go - up or down. My swatches lied (crazy bastards.) And I decided to knit on. You've all read the blog enough to know where this story is going.

I was able to make the size I need (albeit by accident.) However, the farts kept coming. The sweater was asked to leave the house. I was banished to my bedroom with a trashy mystery novel. I had to reknit the eyelet row FOUR TIMES. I had to count stitches over and over. Yes, that's right I HAD to. Frustration had driven me to crazy land. There was an error. I might have been okay with the error. But to be okay with it I had to first figure out where it was. I knew I was off, in more than one place. Too many stitches here, not enough there. But without my finger on the point of origin I couldn't be okay with it. I finally found it. Waaaayyy down there, yes, below the join of the arms, seven inches of knitting down. I decided that I had spent 3-hours finding the error I should at least do myself the favor of fixing it. Big mistake. Never do yourself any favors that involve reknitting something - THREE TIMES!!!!

It's enough to make a woman give up knitting. Or at least leave the perfectionism to better more sane people. Or at least shove the stupid ass sweater to the bottom of the bin. Juli is used to getting presents late. Hell, I still owe her husband one mitten (I think I even sent him home with the single little fellow.) Frustration and sadness. I need a good knitter to come live at my house.