The end of this year's Sock Madness -- for me
Although I may not have been quite recovered from Round 2's cable fest of a sock, I started on Round 3 with happy fervor. It was a beautiful sock and it featured a lot of fun techniques. Sunday around lunchtime I was three repeats in and starting on my fourth:
I chose a red, white and pink variegated yarn I won in a previous Madness and a dark bordeaux Fabel that would work well togheter. Although being in the same colour family, there was plenty of contrast between the two and there was no way I could mistake which of the yarns I was working with. Part of the success of knitting fast is that you can see exactly where you are in the pattern by reading your knitting. This was also part of the reason I struggled so much in Round 2, because I can't reliably read cabled knitting.
The pattern repeat of this sock was 33 stitches, half the sock. The design was mirrored, and had a certain logic to it. The slipped stitches created vertical bands of one colour cabling to cross and more slipped stitches created the rounded stripes. There were decreases to make them slant over sideways and yarnovers to make up for the decreased stitches.
So in short all techniques I have done before in socks:
- Lace pattern
- Slipped stitches
- Helix knitting in two colours
Sunday night I realised I was missing a stitch. The frogging began. And it didn't get any better as I frogged down, at every point that I stopped, I missed a stitch somewhere. I was flabbergasted. How can I be missing stitches when I've already knit this part and had no problem with missed stitches before?!
It's very likely I was missing the yarn-overs on the way back, not seeing the yarn-over or not having enough space in between the stitches to pick one up and fix it. I wasn't quite back to a good place after I put the work down -- I was still missing a stitch somewhere and I couldn't find where I'd forgotten a yarn-over. I took a break and played some OpenTTD instead.
On Monday I had a hard time picking up my knitting again, because it was already burdened by the problems it had caused me. I was stubborn enough to keep poking at it to show the world that I wasn't joking when I said "I can do this. I know I can."; but I was already emotional from the thought of having to frog back more to start from a point where the stitch count was right. By the time I had found that point I was in row 22. I realised I was 10 rows back from when I took the picture on Sunday around lunchtime. I had spent my entire Sunday afternoon knitting for nothing, all those hours wasted because I had to frog back again.
Most of all, it was incredibly aggravating. I know I can do this, I've proved it by knitting whole socks with these techniques that I can do it. But apparantly I could NOT.
It wasn't just the fact that I was making so many mistakes that annoyed me so much. It was also because it was the second sock in a row where I knew I could do better, but it just didn't happen. It made me take a step back and look at it from a distance. With a pandemic and quarantine, the loneliness and the lack of social contacts was starting to get to me. The USA is finding new ways to amaze and worry me, with their orange nitwit leading the way. All the tiny things that are on my mind are running around in circles, screaming and flailing.
It's not a quiet, sunny place to have in the back of your mind. No wonder I kept making mistakes.
By the time I had knitted another repeat of the pattern, I had to go back yet again 5 or 6 rows. I was very disappointed in myself and the sock. Maybe I could not focus enough, and kept forgetting yarnovers or doing them on the wrong side of a slipped stitch. I was lacking the concentration and already the sock had made me cry.
It was time to give up.
My team mate Eleanor replied "No, don't give up yet!" and like her, three others came with their encouragement. Mostly in the form of well-meant advice, all including their way of counting the stitches so they could follow the pattern properly. I cried again when I wrote my replies. For me it boiled down to this sentence: "This is not the time to have a fight with myself." And maybe in part it was also because I was just done with such a fight in round 2.
The next day I frogged my attempt at these socks, and balled the yarn back up. I picked up scraps of blue and cast on a new sock. Because such is life.
I chose a red, white and pink variegated yarn I won in a previous Madness and a dark bordeaux Fabel that would work well togheter. Although being in the same colour family, there was plenty of contrast between the two and there was no way I could mistake which of the yarns I was working with. Part of the success of knitting fast is that you can see exactly where you are in the pattern by reading your knitting. This was also part of the reason I struggled so much in Round 2, because I can't reliably read cabled knitting.
The pattern repeat of this sock was 33 stitches, half the sock. The design was mirrored, and had a certain logic to it. The slipped stitches created vertical bands of one colour cabling to cross and more slipped stitches created the rounded stripes. There were decreases to make them slant over sideways and yarnovers to make up for the decreased stitches.
So in short all techniques I have done before in socks:
- Lace pattern
- Slipped stitches
- Helix knitting in two colours
Sunday night I realised I was missing a stitch. The frogging began. And it didn't get any better as I frogged down, at every point that I stopped, I missed a stitch somewhere. I was flabbergasted. How can I be missing stitches when I've already knit this part and had no problem with missed stitches before?!
It's very likely I was missing the yarn-overs on the way back, not seeing the yarn-over or not having enough space in between the stitches to pick one up and fix it. I wasn't quite back to a good place after I put the work down -- I was still missing a stitch somewhere and I couldn't find where I'd forgotten a yarn-over. I took a break and played some OpenTTD instead.
On Monday I had a hard time picking up my knitting again, because it was already burdened by the problems it had caused me. I was stubborn enough to keep poking at it to show the world that I wasn't joking when I said "I can do this. I know I can."; but I was already emotional from the thought of having to frog back more to start from a point where the stitch count was right. By the time I had found that point I was in row 22. I realised I was 10 rows back from when I took the picture on Sunday around lunchtime. I had spent my entire Sunday afternoon knitting for nothing, all those hours wasted because I had to frog back again.
Most of all, it was incredibly aggravating. I know I can do this, I've proved it by knitting whole socks with these techniques that I can do it. But apparantly I could NOT.
It wasn't just the fact that I was making so many mistakes that annoyed me so much. It was also because it was the second sock in a row where I knew I could do better, but it just didn't happen. It made me take a step back and look at it from a distance. With a pandemic and quarantine, the loneliness and the lack of social contacts was starting to get to me. The USA is finding new ways to amaze and worry me, with their orange nitwit leading the way. All the tiny things that are on my mind are running around in circles, screaming and flailing.
It's not a quiet, sunny place to have in the back of your mind. No wonder I kept making mistakes.
By the time I had knitted another repeat of the pattern, I had to go back yet again 5 or 6 rows. I was very disappointed in myself and the sock. Maybe I could not focus enough, and kept forgetting yarnovers or doing them on the wrong side of a slipped stitch. I was lacking the concentration and already the sock had made me cry.
It was time to give up.
My team mate Eleanor replied "No, don't give up yet!" and like her, three others came with their encouragement. Mostly in the form of well-meant advice, all including their way of counting the stitches so they could follow the pattern properly. I cried again when I wrote my replies. For me it boiled down to this sentence: "This is not the time to have a fight with myself." And maybe in part it was also because I was just done with such a fight in round 2.
The next day I frogged my attempt at these socks, and balled the yarn back up. I picked up scraps of blue and cast on a new sock. Because such is life.