I have a tendency to hyper-focus. There can be complete chaos around me, but in the safe bubble of my focus, there is only tranquil, methodical progress. It’s how I cope. You’ve probably done it too.
It’s a useful habit, but if I jump into the bubble with a project before thinking it through clearly (like I did the first time around with this sweater) it’s too late for reason. I’ll be to the armholes before I come up for air and realize… I didn’t print out half of the instructions.
I’m kind of impressed that my version of Emily Ringelman’s Everett Henley wasn’t more “off.” I just guessed at where to start the front lace repeats and when to stop increasing for the neckline. I blame it all on my grandfather. It was our talking that messed me up. Or maybe the fault lies with the addictive nature of this lace stitch mixed with raglan increases. It’s like a puzzle that is challenging without being demoralizing. I didn’t want to stop while there was still another line to do, you know? So I didn’t.
The flip side of having to rip back what was too much fun to do correctly, is that you get to do it all over again, but right. So I’m okay. It’s worsted lace. It’s not like it won’t move quickly.
The funniest thing to me was how I ignored all of the red flags that I was doing it wrong:
The pattern referred to front charts- “I don’t see any front charts. Why bother?”
It says nothing about lace repeats for the front- “Just an oversight.”
My stitch counts are off- “Wow, this pattern really lives up to the collection’s goal to release intermediate and advanced designs. I’d better take some notes on what I’m doing. It might help another knitter, later.”
I pity the freak that wants my scribbles on my wrinkled Everett pattern page… and the oddly shaped sweater they would produce.
So, I’m back at it and suddenly I remember how to print an entire pattern, at once. I can once again see the big picture of sweater construction as I slip my raglan markers.
All I can say is that it was a very stressful, strange week and this robotic, incorrect knitting was my refuge. It was worth it.