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The Great Unraveling

I must have jinxed myself when I was getting all excited to begin knitting Waterlily before I completely finished Dolores.

There I was, stitch 100 out of 105 on the three needle bind off stitches for the first shoulder, when I noticed a bind off stitch wasn’t quite perfect. To be honest, it was good enough. No one one would have noticed except me. But I went all Super-Knitter and figured it would be no big deal to tink back a few stitches to fix the goof and make the bind off seam PERFECT.

Ha ha ha ha ha.

Ha.

The laugh was on me, because this happened.


In case you can’t tell from my crap photo, that is a thorough and complete unraveling. It happened so fast. The lace went POOF on me. After thirty minutes of tinkering, I knew I was doomed. It was over. Gone.

Done.

That night was sleepless. I knew I had only one option. A life line.

Two life lines, in fact. One for each half.

I made my peace with it early on, stayed relatively calm, and cried only intermittently. I didn’t even cuss.

And that is saying a lot for me.

In the end, I knew it was a good thing. There were a couple of spots in my lace that I wasn’t entirely happy with. I knew I could do better. This was the universe’s way of giving me my second chance after all.

Here is another piss poor photo of my life lines. There is just no way to make a life line look pretty. It would be like photographing a corpse for a cover shoot on Vanity Fair. Just. Not. Happening.


Now this is the first time I have been so desperate that I had to use a life line, and I won’t boast that I was able to pick up all the stitches from the same row.

I didn’t. Close, mostly.

I liken this to how seriously I have been taking my knitting lately. The dedication. The pursuit of… Hek, I don’t know what I am I pursuit of…a little freakin’ peace and joy in my life.

So, yes, I was desperate and used a life line.

Much like a sailor in a sinking boat dawns a survival suit and hopes for the best.

Or at least that is what I told myself.

And, truth be told, four or five hours later, I had my life lines in, yarn unraveled, stitches untwisted and back on the needles…all accounted for. FIVE HUNDRED AND TEN stitches.

Mercy.

Not five hours after that, I had the first half relaced and complete…and in another four hours or so, I estimate (pray) the second half will also be done.

My husband was so sympathetic and concerned about my plight. He made me tea, read me poetry to soothe my nerves, and offered to take care of Reed for an entire afternoon so I could catch up with my knitting.

Ha ha ha ha ha.

Ha.

He didn’t even notice. Bless his heart.

I hope to finish next weekend. For reals this time.

15 thoughts on “The Great Unraveling

  1. Ugghh… this has happened to me too. Not pretty. I’ll send many good vibes your way for the “take two”.

    1. Thanks. Also, too much to ask to send vodka also?

      1. The perfect choice for do overs 😉

  2. I feel your pain! I really do! But you know it will be worth it in the end. Sending virtual bottle of vodka your way! 🙂

    1. Thanks. Will need it for sure.

  3. Sending some good whiskey your way, too. Tip your glass and carry on.

  4. Ouch. :/ totally feeling your pain. Wishing you joy on the reknit!

    1. So far, so good. Fingers crossed!

  5. Oh no. I totally feel for you. It feel like a total disaster. And I know, I wont rest or sleep either until I have fixed it or at least picked up the stitches again. I always dream of them unraveling themselves if I just put them down for a moment. Must get them back on the needles in one way or another first.
    All the best, I know it will be absolutely perfect. 🙂

  6. Thanks dear. Sleeping a bit better now… xoxox

  7. UGh. Don’t want to over-do the vodka (is this even possible??) so sending virtual G&T’s instead. In fact, I’m drinking my second to you this second!

  8. Ha! Only five more rows to go before binding off/seaming. The fiercest lions lie at the final gates!

  9. […] Mistakes: Many, particularly here, here, and here. […]

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