Got a little crazy with Pi yesterday and plowed through eight repeats in the 288 section. Needed to pee (sorry to be so intimate, but jeez Louise, I'm as bad as my daughter sometimes!), needed to take a shower, needed to eat lunch, needed to go to school - there were needs to be met! But did I stop? Hell no! I know I'm not alone with this. I've seen it on enough blogs. Just a tad obsessive aren't we?
And what happens when I rush? When I'm physically in need? Yes indeedy, I screw up. And what's worse, I ignore all evidence of the screw up. When am I going to learn that when the "Hey, that's not right" button lights up in my little pea brain, I should stop? Not think, "Oh, it'll work out, that's just the way it looks now, but it'll look right on the next round". I should say I'm getting better at this, but hunger, stress and the need to pee can override good judgment.
Yes, 12! And I knitted (the "wrong side" resting round) over this mess 8 times before I finally stopped. Notice just how strong the visual clues were! This is not some sort of hard-to-see pattern. I was working the point of a diamond!
And no comments about markers cause it was the marker that allowed me to override my visual judgment in the first place. I must not have shifted it correctly. When I thought the stitches looked off at the very first intersection, I stopped to count back to the marker and gosh darn-it, the count was spot on so I plowed forward. Never did trust math (don't get all worked up, I'm joking).
A tinking we will go, a tinking we will go ...
Now, I'm perverse. I decided that rather than just tink back the two rounds and start again, I would tink back to the start of the knit only round and then dip down to fix each of the twelve messes as I got to them. One motivation was my own little version of penance, the other was that this is an excellent way to learn ones knitting. Like a teen who takes the engine apart and rebuilds it just to see how it works from both directions. Or like a bomb diffuser who knows one wrong move will result in disaster, but that the job must be done.
Step 1: Tink back, then knit up to the bad stitches.
Step 2 (not pictured - this is the bomb diffusing part): Get centered (pee first), take a breath, pinch or lift the yarn below the stitches (to relieve pressure), then tink the bad stitches down one row, allowing the previous row's working yarn to fall behind. You'll be lifting the live stitches the wrong direction (to the right needle), but don't worry about that. Don't worry about a twist in the stitch either. Worry about dropping a stitch and then having to kill yourself. No blood on the yarn please. Of course I had to make this fun by screwing up Sl1-Ktog-PSSO stitches - no fun to tink those puppies in laceweight. And don't mention lifelines - I don't do no stinkin' lifelines. That would be incredibly sensible and I'm not. I like to live on the edge of disaster - it makes the successes so sweet.
Step 3: Transfer the stitches back to the left needle, fixing any twisted stitches as you go.
Step 4 (not pictured): Work these stitches with that loop of yarn you dropped behind. Don't forget to make YOs. Again, transfer the stitches back to the left needle, fixing any twists.
Step 6: You're home free - knit as usual.
Once you've worked one or two it gets pretty fast - really. I for one feel incredibly successful and redeemed after something like this. But I'm weird.
The Photo Meme
Kay from Mason Dixon picked up this meme. If you're amused, be sure to check hers out (if you've not seen it already), and check her comments for more players.
Search: where you grew up, where you live now, your name, Grandmothers' names, favorite food, favorite drink, favorite song, favorite smell and favorite shoes.
Can't do it. But here's one that's got some v good associations:
Funeral song (was this Kay's inclusion?):
Update on the family perfectionist
After three hours of moaning she finally got to work and was where she needed to be by bedtime. When I helped in class yesterday I worked with about half the children on their books. All but one copied a famous fairy tale into their own words. Rachel wrote an original story. I was very proud of her.
In Rachel's story aliens came to the skatepark and ruined the ramps and equipment (this section was very descriptive with all the appropriate lingo), human skaters discovered the mess and challenged the aliens to a skate-off (lots more lingo), then finally the aliens were invited to join the humans for a skate session and everyone had a great time. You can imagine why this was difficult for her to illustrate.
Only later did I realize the seeds of her story.
Years ago I made up a bedtime story modeled on Goldilocks that involved a girl coming to Rachel's Montessori pre-school and messing up different children's tables or projects, then falling asleep in the nap corner. Rachel loved this story because she would provide different children and activities each time. The story always ended with the children in tears over their ruined work, the discovery of the sleeping girl, and finally all the children teaching her the classroom rules and inviting her to join their class. Everyone lived happily ever after in their peaceful community.
Sometimes they do listen!