I make mistakes — MANY of them (in all aspects of life), and am not afraid to say so. Sometimes, however, the ones that are the most difficult to recover from have to do with knitting design. That’s primarily because it can take so long to figure out that you’re on the wrong track. More often than not, I keep forging ahead, even when I know that there is disaster looming. I have this crazy idea that magic will happen, and everything will work out just fine in the end.
Some of you have seen this one before — it’s a mitten that I drafted from a 19th century example in a museum. The design is from Gotland Island, Sweden, and it’s a very common type that is highly recognizable. Therein lies the problem — I can’t “fudge” mistakes on this one. It really should look very much like the original, or if I make changes, they should be deliberate and explainable.
Here is my “finished” product. It should have a pyramid shape at the top. Problem #1. The second issue is that the thumb is upside down (in other words, the continuation of the design is actually under the thumb rather than on top). AND, the thumb hole is too small for anybody except a small child. I clearly miscounted the number of stitches in the thumb. The top is another story.
I actually ended up making 4 sets of paired decreases at the top rather than two sets at each side. What happened then, is that the round wheel pattern, made in sets of 4, came together at the top with a small spine in between each group. That actually looks really nice, but has no relationship to the original.
So, back to the drawing board. This also gives me the opportunity to try something different. While the colors of this mitten are a pretty good match to the original, I didn’t enjoy working with the yarn. The natural color is fine, but the brown is dyed, and the dye actually has compacted the fibers making that yarn a different diameter than the natural color. In addition, something about the dyeing process has caused the yarn to look matted and fuzzy.
Truthfully, I don’t like having to throw in the towel and start over. On the other hand, it gives me the opportunity to improve not only my work but the product itself. (I’m trying to give this a positive spin!)
It makes me remember something I read from a blog post by Stephanie Pearl-McPhee (also known as the Yarn Harlot) where she was watching her daughter knitting something in the round that had gotten twisted. If you’re a knitter, you just groaned, because you’ve been there, and there really is no fix. You just have to start over. Her description was that her daughter was knitting with dogged determination, if just being determined would cause those stitches to magically turn the right way. And they didn’t. After watching for a while, and understanding that saying there was a problem would not help the situation, she walked across the room and simply cut the knitting at the join so that it could be put back together correctly. I remember my stomach lurching when I read that (and I can’t remember her daughter’s reaction). It is, however, true, that sometimes you just have to cut your losses and start again. Life’s like that some days.
I’m thinking of all of you knitting in isolation these days, and hoping you are well and healthy. My spinning group actually did a Zoom meeting this past weekend (and I’m really sorry I couldn’t join them). From the reviews, it sounds like they had a very good time. Some of us will have to give that idea a try for our knitting group. I know we won’t get much knitting done, but then, we don’t get that much done when we meet together in person, so that’s probably just fine.
Be well.