Okay, so this wasn’t the way I planned to open my next blog entry, but what’s a knitta gonna do? I’ve decided to look at this mess as a breakthrough. I hate to frog. Haaaate to frog. In fact, I’m pretty sure this is the first time I’ve ever done it. In the past I’ve always soldiered on even if it meant winding up with something no one would wear. Thankfully, there were few flat-out failures. A nice pair of lace socks in size 27 comes to mind.
Anyway . . . The Shamrock Socks should have been wonderful socks. I loved the shamrocks, loved the yarn, loved the whole idea of having handknit socks to wear on St. Patrick’s day. But here’s the thing. I fought with them for two years. Mostly, the battle happened in my mind, but periodically, I’d take them out, knit a few rows and dream of how snazzy I’d look wearing them on March 17th.
But then the yarn would start doing this thing again. It was killlllllling me! Don’t get me wrong. It was gorgeous. The heavyweight STR “Lucky” was mesmerizing variations of green on green, and the “Moira” was . . . just so perfect with the “Lucky.” But the twist was insane. It was one giant corkscrew. Especially the “Moira.” It was constantly winding itself around itself, my needles, my fingers. Ahhhhhh!
And then there was the pattern. Turns out it only really works if your foot is the same size as the one in the pattern photo. I realized this some time ago, but it wasn’t a happy thought. So I just kept knitting a few rows every couple of months–until yesterday.
The day had had its own challenges, but I’d decided it was time to KNIT THESE SOCKS. So I sat down and started doing it. I probably knit on them for two hours. With each stitch further along I got, though, and each corkscrew of yarn I had to untangle, I was getting more and more verklempt. I should also mention that during all of this, I had to stop and let dogs out several times and respond to a couple of other home things, and every time I returned to the socks, the situation felt a little worse.
And then it hit me.
Knitting is supposed to be fun!
It was like a thunderclap in my head. Of course, I know that knitting should be fun. I say it to other people all the time. Why in the world would you torture yourself over something that everyone in the free world has the luxury of doing because of the FUN?! Even when it’s not fun fun—when you’re struggling with a mistake or trying to adapt something where the numbers are impossible or wondering how you could have ever thought that all that stockinette was a good idea—it’s still FUN!! It had been staring me in the face for two years, and I hadn’t seen it. These socks were not fun. Frog the socks!!!!
So I did.
At first, I tried to save the yarn, but after I’d spent half an hour (I refuse to admit that it might have been more) untangling corkscrews as I tried to rewind it, you know what I did?
I can’t say I didn’t feel a small twinge of regret in consigning this project to the back corner of the yarn closet. I did. I just really, really loved the idea of shamrock socks. And the green yarn. The variegation in the green yarn is absolutely luscious. But even so . . . the back corner of the yarn closet is where this no-longer-a- project belongs.
And then I wound this:
How’s that for fabulous color?!!! It’s going to be a Honey Cowl. I can hardly wait.
Knitting is SO MUCH FUN!!!!!