Grace

Today, began in a most spectacular was. I truly had high hopes for it as I awoke to snow - SNOW - in the Poconos. A two-hour delay? I'll take that. What? A closure? In my district and not Betty and Veronica's? Damn, I was a good girl. And then it all unraveled.



Not that I am a perfectionist, but I do strive for it. A teensy, tiny little mis-cross about six rows back was bugging the shit out of me. I should have fixed it as soon as I saw it, but I honestly thought it wasn't anything major. Finally, it got the better of me, probably because I was obsessing about it and because I found another mis-cross just like it down a further 12 rows. I thought to myself, "Damn, Ava, you really don't have a clue what you are doing?" Just to prove myself wrong, I attempted to fix it.

Before I go on, those of you not related to me by blood should know the following: the sweater is being knit for Beaner, the daughter of the other sister. Beaner was born in England (a country whose spell I have fallen under - and yes, I know that grammar was abhorrent) and I bought the yarn at Liberty on my last visit. The other sister doesn't knit even though Lola and I have tried several times to teach her. In addition, Beaner looks a whole lot like her Aunt Ava, I title I don't like but the other sister insists on it. I know when to admit defeat. Anyway, the fact that this sweater has not been frogged defies logic. Partially, I feel like I am knitting a bit of home into for Beaner. In reality, I am a masochist and don't know what the hell I would do with the yarn that I now have grown to despise. I hate this yarn. Sure, it is softer than soft and the pink is my kind of thing, but I can't stand knitting with it. It looks like yarn that is spun on a drop spindle (not that there is anything wrong with that - just giving you an idea of what it looks like) and it catches on my uber-dry skin. This is definitely my candidate for January's UFO; otherwise, it is a DUFO (Destined UnFinished Object).



Here is what a little patience will do for you. I am not even going to tell you how many needles I used at one time (okay, it was five, including the crochet hook and it counts) or what an ass I looked like trying to fix the stitches. In the end, am I happy with the results? Sure. Am I thrilled? Not a chance. To fix those other two errors, however, I am going to go the duplicate stitch route. Beaner will never know.

Ava

PS - Grace is the name of the pattern from Rowan for Soft Baby (the yarn of my nightmares), what I needed to fix those six rows, and a great song by the late Jeff Buckley . . . but I didn't need to tell you that one.