I don't know what to post
I started the week with a big bunch of enthusiasm for Vest-uary, starting my vest with a big smile, and then realizing I'd used the wrong sized needles. Well, rather than go through my four painful false starts over again, I finally got going on the back of my Veste Everest with the right gauge, the right number of stitches and the correct needles. One more repeat and I'll be at the bind off for the underarms. I feel really good about this.
I wished I felt the same about my Vine Lace Top Down Cardigan which I blocked this week. Wherein it turned into a disaster. I will not model it, so don't even ask, I look like a Boobah in it. I have no idea what happened, but I now believe I can drive my minivan through the neck opening. With. It. Buttoned.
This:
Makes me look like this:
Huge sigh. It is still sort of wearable. In my office. With the door closed. The blinds down. And no deliveries expected from UPS. I just have to remember to take it off before I go flying out the door to pick up the kids. I don't want the minivan door sliding open at school and it setting off a stampede of elementary aged children screeching, "My eyes! My eyes!" Yes, it is that hideous.
I had hoped to wear it proudly to Madrona next weekend. I don't think so. I would probably get tossed out of the conference and banned for life from ever attending again. My knitting needles confiscated. My name blacklisted at all the local yarn shops and most of the prominent online shops.
Truly, I've resigned myself that some projects were just meant to hang in the closet and remind us that knitting is a craft. And there is always room to learn.
I wished I felt the same about my Vine Lace Top Down Cardigan which I blocked this week. Wherein it turned into a disaster. I will not model it, so don't even ask, I look like a Boobah in it. I have no idea what happened, but I now believe I can drive my minivan through the neck opening. With. It. Buttoned.
This:
Makes me look like this:
Huge sigh. It is still sort of wearable. In my office. With the door closed. The blinds down. And no deliveries expected from UPS. I just have to remember to take it off before I go flying out the door to pick up the kids. I don't want the minivan door sliding open at school and it setting off a stampede of elementary aged children screeching, "My eyes! My eyes!" Yes, it is that hideous.
I had hoped to wear it proudly to Madrona next weekend. I don't think so. I would probably get tossed out of the conference and banned for life from ever attending again. My knitting needles confiscated. My name blacklisted at all the local yarn shops and most of the prominent online shops.
Truly, I've resigned myself that some projects were just meant to hang in the closet and remind us that knitting is a craft. And there is always room to learn.
Comments
Frogging a disaster is a liberating thing. It will make you happy. And you don't run the risk of forgetting you have it on (says the person who checks occasionally to make sure she hasn't walked out of the house in her bath robe. It hasn't ever happened, but occasionally, I just get that feeling that that's what I'm wearing). Oddly, the bathrobe is purple as well. lol