Curses!
Does this sort of thing happen to you?
With huge relief the other night I cast on some plain jane slippers, using my shiny pink size 6 dpns and a bargain-bin-rescue skein of forest green Paton's Shetland Chunky. I felt like myself again--not the grumpy, prickly self I've been lately, but calm and content. I knit away for a good while, humming along nicely, until I started to wonder seriously what the hell was going on. It only started to dawn on me that I was knitting a heel when the fabric started to warp and assume a distinct cup-like shape. Not until much later did I realize I could've easily known about this all along if, reading the pattern, I had actually read all the lines, not just let my eyes greedily skip to cast on 36 sts. Lesson 1: read pattern.
We had a couple of good days, Plain Jane and I. She took me to and from work on the bus, kept me company during my much break when she amazed me by the simple but clever trick of casting on additional stitches at the end of a row to create the strap (I'm still new at this, very little causes me to wonder--or curse.) I had even, in a fit of inspiration, decided to cast on the strap in a different colour. Oh, those were the days. Now she lies in an unhappy heap in my knitting basket, half-frogged and nearly-abandoned, after I realized that the the foot was too long and the strap was going to wrap around the base of my toes and that it just wouldn't do. So.
Before work on Saturday I sauntered into the craft store at the mall near the library (it is closing soon, which is very sad, but means that I get to add to my collection of circs at liquidation prices, niiiiice...) and bought size 3 circs in an attempt to fix the gauge issue that stands between me & the blissful knitting of Jaywalker. Not. To. Be. Recklessly ignoring my own best advice to never cast anything on after nine-thirty pm I attempted last night to get going with sock knitting and it took no less than three attemps to get the requisite number of un-twisted stitches on the needles, all nicely linked and everything. But it's of absolutely no consequence because as you probably already know and have gasped in horror when reading about it, you simply cannot knit a Jaywalker sock on size 3 needles, not with this yarn anyway, not unless you're okay with it turning into a Jaywalker hat. So--square one again. I am bitter towards all the knitting projects in my house while simultaneously longing desperately for them. I sure hope that, being newly & ecstatically happily married, I don't have some deeply-rooted need for dysfunctional relationships that knitting has come to fill. That would suck.
To brighten the day: it isn't a proper FO picture, but here's Miss Zola lovin' some Bobblicious.
With huge relief the other night I cast on some plain jane slippers, using my shiny pink size 6 dpns and a bargain-bin-rescue skein of forest green Paton's Shetland Chunky. I felt like myself again--not the grumpy, prickly self I've been lately, but calm and content. I knit away for a good while, humming along nicely, until I started to wonder seriously what the hell was going on. It only started to dawn on me that I was knitting a heel when the fabric started to warp and assume a distinct cup-like shape. Not until much later did I realize I could've easily known about this all along if, reading the pattern, I had actually read all the lines, not just let my eyes greedily skip to cast on 36 sts. Lesson 1: read pattern.
We had a couple of good days, Plain Jane and I. She took me to and from work on the bus, kept me company during my much break when she amazed me by the simple but clever trick of casting on additional stitches at the end of a row to create the strap (I'm still new at this, very little causes me to wonder--or curse.) I had even, in a fit of inspiration, decided to cast on the strap in a different colour. Oh, those were the days. Now she lies in an unhappy heap in my knitting basket, half-frogged and nearly-abandoned, after I realized that the the foot was too long and the strap was going to wrap around the base of my toes and that it just wouldn't do. So.
Before work on Saturday I sauntered into the craft store at the mall near the library (it is closing soon, which is very sad, but means that I get to add to my collection of circs at liquidation prices, niiiiice...) and bought size 3 circs in an attempt to fix the gauge issue that stands between me & the blissful knitting of Jaywalker. Not. To. Be. Recklessly ignoring my own best advice to never cast anything on after nine-thirty pm I attempted last night to get going with sock knitting and it took no less than three attemps to get the requisite number of un-twisted stitches on the needles, all nicely linked and everything. But it's of absolutely no consequence because as you probably already know and have gasped in horror when reading about it, you simply cannot knit a Jaywalker sock on size 3 needles, not with this yarn anyway, not unless you're okay with it turning into a Jaywalker hat. So--square one again. I am bitter towards all the knitting projects in my house while simultaneously longing desperately for them. I sure hope that, being newly & ecstatically happily married, I don't have some deeply-rooted need for dysfunctional relationships that knitting has come to fill. That would suck.
To brighten the day: it isn't a proper FO picture, but here's Miss Zola lovin' some Bobblicious.
posted by Fanny at 3:35 PM
3 Comments:
Que le vert lui va bien à notre Miss Zola! Mom xxx
cute cat.
Hey, if you have to have a dysfunctional relationship, at least it's with an inanimate object!! I face the same thing with my sewing projects. I currently have at least half a dozen half-way finished projects.
love,
christina
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