Because it's been way too long since I posted about a finished project.
This is not to say, however, that I haven't finished a project lately. I just can't talk about the projects I've finished. There go those italics again. A sure sign I'm frustrated about it.
You may recall reading about a shawl I was knitting for commission in the dark of the back of my van.
Behold:
On Yarndogs' big brown sofa.
All I did was the last five repeats of the lacy leaf edging and the bind off. Teri at the store did the body of the shawl and the first leaf repeat, and then ran into issues with the pattern. I was able to beat the thing into submission, though, after puzzling over the pattern for a while, myself.
(Rant: It is beyond me why a pattern would force you to rely on the placement of the stitch markers, give you instructions that read something like, "move the markers as appropriate," but give you no indication in the written pattern or in the lace chart about when and where to move the damn stitch markers. Next rant at...*)
Pattern: ...Something from Folk Shawls. (I only ever looked at the last page of the pattern, so I can't remember what it's called. I do recall that it came right before the shawl pattern from Russia.)
Yarn: Rowan Classic Yarn Silk Wool DK in Porcelain (I had never knit with this yarn before and it was really lovely to work with.)
Needles: The cursed Denise set.
(Please disregard the weird striping in this photo. A nice closeup of the lacework, not so nice shot of the yarn color.)
Tale of WoeWhoa: I was several rows into a later repetition of the lacework before I realized there was a pretty huge mistake in just one of the leaves in the previous repetition. I could fix it stitchcount-wise without ripping back 10 rows, but it still left that one leaf noticeably disfigured. So being the fearless, hardcore knitter that I can be, I knit the next row to the beginning of the section of the leaf pattern where the error was, and dropped all the stitches off the needle for that column of leaves. And then I braved the dark, the disconnecting needles, and my frozen fingers and reknit that lace leaf using only the ladders of yarn from the dropped stitches.
Believe me, I wish I had taken a picture of it, too.
*10 points to mousecatfish if she can remember what this is from.
You may recall reading about a shawl I was knitting for commission in the dark of the back of my van.
Behold:
On Yarndogs' big brown sofa.
All I did was the last five repeats of the lacy leaf edging and the bind off. Teri at the store did the body of the shawl and the first leaf repeat, and then ran into issues with the pattern. I was able to beat the thing into submission, though, after puzzling over the pattern for a while, myself.
(Rant: It is beyond me why a pattern would force you to rely on the placement of the stitch markers, give you instructions that read something like, "move the markers as appropriate," but give you no indication in the written pattern or in the lace chart about when and where to move the damn stitch markers. Next rant at...*)
Pattern: ...Something from Folk Shawls. (I only ever looked at the last page of the pattern, so I can't remember what it's called. I do recall that it came right before the shawl pattern from Russia.)
Yarn: Rowan Classic Yarn Silk Wool DK in Porcelain (I had never knit with this yarn before and it was really lovely to work with.)
Needles: The cursed Denise set.
(Please disregard the weird striping in this photo. A nice closeup of the lacework, not so nice shot of the yarn color.)
Tale of WoeWhoa: I was several rows into a later repetition of the lacework before I realized there was a pretty huge mistake in just one of the leaves in the previous repetition. I could fix it stitchcount-wise without ripping back 10 rows, but it still left that one leaf noticeably disfigured. So being the fearless, hardcore knitter that I can be, I knit the next row to the beginning of the section of the leaf pattern where the error was, and dropped all the stitches off the needle for that column of leaves. And then I braved the dark, the disconnecting needles, and my frozen fingers and reknit that lace leaf using only the ladders of yarn from the dropped stitches.
Believe me, I wish I had taken a picture of it, too.
*10 points to mousecatfish if she can remember what this is from.