Friday, June 16, 2006
LACE IS NOT FOR INSECURE PEOPLE
Oh, what a sad, sad little man I am. I had no idea of the depths of my insecurity until I started knitting this wrap.
Now, I know that, until blocked, lace looks like a pile of canned ass. (See above illustration of canned ass.) SO I wasn't expecting the product as it slipped from the needles to look special. I expected to knit at a leisurely pace, chatting with my family, looking up on occasion to watch the cat bat playfully at a toy or the dog chew on a rawhide.
First, the chart, even blown up, was so hard to read it was useless to me. So I tried reading the written pattern, which worked well, if I managed to get through a whole row knitting only the instructions for that row... which didn't happen very often.
So I made this:
One index card for each row of the pattern (32 in all) written in thick black marker, with the repeat isolated with red asterisks. Punched and put on a big ring. (This card, and several others, got into the pile upside down, which I didn't' notice when punching. It was a blessing in disguise...notice how it stands upright! Woo Hoo!) It also is a really effective row counter! (I've always had trouble keeping track of what row I am on.)
Anyway, back to my poor self-esteem.
So I start knitting. And I rip back. And I learn my lesson about lifelines. And I start knitting again. I can't tell you how many times I've had to rip back rows. I think I must be closing in on a thousand.
Even though I've worked the 32-row repeat four times, every row is fraught with insecurity. I constantly doubting myself. If someone has the audacity to speak to me mid-row, Dog help them. "Can't you see I'm trying to RELAX?" I scream. Or I answer the phone with a very pleasant "WHAT THE HELL DO YOU WANT FROM ME?"
I've found it is better to knit this one alone. No Myfanwe, no Norbert, no TV, no radio, no music, no cat, no dog. I'd appreciate it if the upstairs neighbors could move out, just for the duration.
I'd ask my doctor for a Valium prescription, but I'm afraid it would make me drop a stitch.
Pray for me.