Knitting, a metaphor

Of course we all know that anything we do can be taken as a metaphor for life but I just had an existential knitting experience.

I have been making a sweater vest for Monkey.

She picked out the yarn all by herself. This itchy, scritchy old school Icelandic Lopi wool in a smoky indigo grey. Truly a lovely color and a simple but elegant pattern.  What could go wrong?

dun dun duuunnnnn

I started it on the way home from a funeral and made quite a lot of head way in the four hours of travel. I worked on it non stop the next day while spending time with friends at a local coffee shop.

Then I put it down and got distracted.

This happens with me and large projects. Even simple ones.

I finally picked it back up on Thursday night after threatening myself with no new projects until it and another sweater (for me) were completed.

I was closer to being finished than I realized (Ain’t that always the way?) but there was no way I would be finished in time for Monkey to wear it on stage last night. I was, however 3 rows away from completion before we left for BLB.

grrrrrrr

Too large to take with me, I instead took along some mindless knitting. A stockingette cowl. round and round and round and round and round and round and round and round and…. you get the picture

Once we got home (midnightish, mind you) I immediately plopped down on the couch to finish the vestie while everyone else went to bed.

dun dun duuunnn

Yup, you are right to be worried. Something was wrong. Horribly wrong.

There was supposed to be room to bind off in the middle of the back and still be able to connect all of the front stitches. Supposed to be, being the key phrase.

dun dun duuunnn

I finished it off.

It had the teeniest neck hole ever (even too teeny for ye ole peanut headed Monkey), there was a ridge for shoulder seams and the shoulders were very, very square. We’re talking 80’s shoulder padded space suit kinda square.

Still refusing to given in I made Monkey get up and try it on.

Yup. It was as bad as one would expect.

From the pit down it was a perfect fit. But the space suit look is not one that anyone can carry off successfully, especially teeny headed monkeys.

I threw it back in the basket and sulked off to bed.

This morning, I went back to said vestie in a defiant “oh no you dinit” kinda way.

I picked and plucked and unzipped my way back to where things went so wrong.

Then I did the unthinkable.

I pulled out the pattern.

Yup. I missed a step. One tiny but very important step. So much for all of the plotting I had been doing in the middle of the night, searching out a way to fix my hot mess.

No creative solutions needed.

I finished off the last two rows (including the missed step) and it is perfect. Fits wonderfully and is now blocking on the dining room table (most certainly with a cat asleep on top).

Moral of the story:

It’s never too late to back up and try again.

or

Always check your pattern before trying to come up with your own (even more disastrous) solutions.

or

Keep it simple, stupid.

or

(fill in the blank)

One can say that how you address your knitting and more importantly your knitting mistakes is truly indicative of how you live your life.

Once upon a time, not so long ago I would have just chucked the whole thing and started something new. Guess I’m finally growing up.

Time to finish the next.

I think I’m starting to like this finishing thing after all.

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~ by duncks on May 3, 2008.

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