I spent most of the weekend in an academic conference, and so it was with a great sigh of relief and happiness that I sat down to knit while watching a movie last night. I worked steadily, and soon found myself giddily approaching the last two stitches of the hat.
But somehow I knocked one of them off the needle. And away it slid, always just ahead of my ability to pick it up. I’m usually a champ at fixing mistakes like this. Maybe it was the yarn, or the awkward way that dp needles twist when there are only a few stitches left on each, or the fact that the top is mostly purled stitches that bent away from my needles. In any case, my near victory was turning into a nasty downwards spiral.
Mountain Man had to stop the movie, turn on the lights, and duck out of the room. And I’m telling you, it took every ounce of self-restraint not to rip out EVERY LAST STITCH of that hat!!
My sister would argue that I usually get upset when I make a mistake. But it’s not like this. Typically I will let a project with mistakes languish untouched for months before I can bring myself to unravel even a few inches. And when it’s something that I really want to finish, I can steadfastly bit the bullet (the night before, I’d tinked back an inch and a half of work on this very project – placidly).
I can’t explain what came over me. Shedir had a close brush with death by unraveling. But in the end, after Mountain Man brought me a glass of wine, I was able to let it pass. And I’ve been sitting in the sun trying to make sense of it this morning.
Here’s the photo from last week, when it was a little smaller but as yet untouched by this drama.