Archive for March 10th, 2015

Sometimes a mistake is fortuitous. It happened with the new baby sweater design I’m working on. We won’t talk about the infinite number of times I’ve knit and ripped the right front of the sweater except to say the amount of reknitting easily equals a completed baby sweater. No, there are many things I won’t say and in not saying them it is my hope to get beyond them.

Last night I had the chance to sit and knit, a chance that has eluded me for a long time. Half-way through the evening’s knit, I realized the fabric made by my US size 3 (3.25 mm) needles did not resemble the 6″ (15) cm of fabric that preceded it. Something was wonky and it looked like it was my tension (gauge). Without any angst or anger I slid the stitches off the needle and ripped back to where the fabric was correct. No, I didn’t have a life line. I have ripped so often that I am comfortable with leaving the live stitches hang in mid-air as I pick them up and seat them on my needle. Another bonus of constant ripping is that I can read this particular knitting in such an intimate manner that I know where I am in the pattern on any given stitch on any given row. This is extremely helpful when the correct stitch counts occur only on Wrong Side rows. So, as I said I ripped, picked up the dangling stitches and began again, carefully monitoring my tension.

Four rows in and the wonkiness reappeared. I paused and assessed my choices. One, I could rip out the entire piece and begin again. Two, I could investigate and try to find out why my US 3 needles were no longer producing the fabric I had fallen in love with. Before I could do either, life once again intervened and needles and yarn were hastily put away.

This morning I thought I might sneak in some “quiet” knit time. It would mean I’d need to close myself up in the closet or hide out in the bathroom, but I felt the imprisonment was worth it. Since the closet has no window, hence no light, the bathroom it was. I quickly grabbed needles and yarn before The Skipper and Yarn Rascal came in from their walk and barricaded shuttered myself in the bathroom.

I ripped the piece back to where the fabric was correct. A new day, a new time, perhaps a new tension might just give me the fabric I had knitted before. Yes, sometimes miracles do happen.

As I knit I was producing the correct fabric. A feeling of serenity fell round my shoulders and embraced me as I knit. The problem had worked itself out. I was smiling and patting the fabric when I noticed that the needles looked different from each other. Quietly, I snuck out of the bathroom to the craft room, located the magnifying glass (my eyes are not what they once were), and looked at the miniscule stamp that tells the size of the needles. One needle was US size 3 (3.25 mm), the other was US size 5 (3.75 mm). The fabric that I loved was being created by two different sized needles! What a beautiful and fortuitous mistake!

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