Picture it. I was sitting on a friend's front porch, enjoying a light breeze, knitting while Mitzi had a play date with her doggie friend, Marco. I was knitting along on my Swallowtail Shawl, taking mental note that I was finally making progress and that, at the end of the pattern repeat, I should put in place a lifeline, just in case.
Eighteen or so stitches before the end of the row / pattern repeat, my right-hand needle slipped out of the stitches and I lost, at least momentarily, half a dozen or more stitches.
No amount of futzing put things right. I now have at least three rows to tink back. I am bereft.
I put it aside for a day or two. I've got the Luna Moth Shawl back into forward motion again, so I think I'll finish the remaining thirty rows and have done with it before returning to the Swallowtail.
So sad. It was looking so beautiful. What if I can't ever get it right? Why, oh why didn't I put a lifeline in earlier?