Those Whom the Gods Wish To Destroy

Okay, forget refreshed and rejuvenated. My knitting stinks these days. Allow me to present the evidence.

This represents one week worth of knitting. That's seven (count 'em 7) days. I cannot express how exasperated I am. The humiliating difficulties I chronicled with the casting on didn't stop there.

I had gotten this far, and realized I was knitting on the wrong-size needles. Given how tightly I knit, if I left this it alone, there is a good chance John's next growth spurt would render the sweater obsolete, probably before I finished.

I thought I had an idea. Why do I allow myself to do that? The theory was, use this part for the hem, transfer the stitches to the larger needles, purl a row to mark the fold-line, and go on my merry way. I completely bollixed the transfer.

Some of us never learn that "those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it." I had another idea. Run the needle through a row of stitches lower down, like a mega-lifeline. I'd lose some of my work, but not all. Of course, you need to be consistent and pick up all the stitches from the same row. I managed to jump down a row about midway. Something I didn't discover until after I had frogged down.

I looked at the mess in my hands and admitted defeat. Rip. Start again.

Need we revisit my previous post? No, I think not. Suffice to say, it wasn't any prettier this time.

It's gotten so bad, that I'm using work as reward for knitting, instead of the other way around. The voice in my head goes something like this: "All right, I'll just get half-way through this round and then I'll cover X amount of what I usually really don't want to do. Then, once I finish that, I'll pick up the knitting and slog through another half-round. Once that's over with, I'll get to go to Y. ('Y' being the next step after 'X')."

It's working. I've recovered what I'd lost, and may even be a little beyond. I still love the yarn. The knitting is mindless, which is good, since I shudder to think what would happen if I tried anything that involved skill. Or thought. Or any of the higher mental functions.

In the meantime, if any of you have any influence with the knitting gods, I'd appreciate it if you get their attention off of me. I'm sure they find me hilariously entertaining at the moment. I can hear them cackling when I stop my inner dialogue.