I am a moron. I have no idea what possesses me sometimes, but I manage to make startling and innovative knitting errors without even trying. I’ve been happily knitting the blue cabled tank, (especially enjoying the cabled part) and gleefully I reached the arm and neck shaping last night. I was thrilled (because I would have something finished to show you this morning) and began to do the decreases.
They didn’t work. the decreases are supposed to fall in a particular place in the ribbed pattern, and on one side it was all…well, perplexing. Careful examination revealed that I had made a mistake in setting up the ribbing, and had faithfully knitted the entire tank with a ribbing pattern completely generated by my imagination. It’s whacked. You know how sometimes you can see where you went wrong? Like you transposed two numbers? Or you misread one of instructions…you can look at your work and say “Ah, yes, there’s my mistake . That’s the moment.”
Not this time. The ribbing pattern that I knit bears no relationship to the pattern. None. As near as I can tell it is completely random. Funny thing is, I remember setting up the pattern and really paying attention. At this point it’s going to have to be fixed or the straps won’t look the same. Here’s the plan. The way I see it, only 2/3 of the blue tank front is on crack, so frogging the whole thing seems like the true path to misery, equalled only by repeated floggings inefficient. I have therefore decided to fix the ribbing one wrong stitch at a time.
I dropped the first of the wrong stitches (naturally, since there are only two options, knit and purl – some of the stitches are correct, not because I didn’t screw them up, but because there is a 50% chance that some will be right, even if the knitter abandons all conventions and picks a random ribbing pattern) and encouraged it to unravel all the way to the cast on.
Here’s something interesting. Ever noticed that if you drop a stitch by accident it will run all the way to the cast on edge in a heartbeat, but if you want it to run down you will have to spend time encouraging the lame little arse to run down, unpicking it each and every row? Don’t tell me that knitting is inanimate. I have too much proof that it holds a grudge.
Once I had dropped it all the way down, I whipped out my trusty crochet hook (there’s a phrase you thought you would never hear on this blog) and chained the stitch back up correctly.
Now, I only have to do that with 15 more stitches. (See that? See the way I managed to type that sentence with no hint of the bitterness that I’m feeling? The tank was supposed to be done today and instead I’m playing stupid little crochet hook games and there isn’t anybody I can even blame but myself. I hate that. Still, I managed to type that sentence without revealing any of the dark, loathsome feelings that I’m having for the blue tank, and instead only showed it my concern for it’s well being. I am hoping that this will encourage the blue tank to abstain from punishing me further. I suspect that this trouble with the tank stems from it’s resentment of the photoshopped images where I debase it’s blueness. I may have to either refrain from altering it’s images, or not knit near the computer.)
Yarn Harlot
Talk about your patience with reworking stitches……more power to ya, sister! I would have thrown it in a corner of my living room while I considered (until Autumn, at least!) how to not throw up when thinking about how much knitting I had already done. But this is why you are a Knitting Goddess and I’m still not worthy!!
May the force be with you!
I love knitting surgery! But 15 times? I think I would have frogged. And yes, I think it’s the blue seeking revenge.
Though the blue may be seeking revenge, I love the colorful tank! In a way, it’s inspirational. Yeah, the power of tools!
I cannot count the number of times I have done just what you are doing with this tank. And while I am doing it, I am always SO depressed because the stitches look so wonky and malformed. Fortunately the first washing takes care of that.
Be grateful — the mistake could have been early in the cable pattern! (been there, done that as well — usually with my husband muttering in the background about how no one can even SEE the error!!)
Clearly the tank is seeking revenge. It is time to stop over-striking the dreaded blue word. It may not be too late. It’s next revenge may be worse.
You have more patience than I do! I’d have ripped the sucker back and sat up till 2 AM re-knitting it, cursing and swearing.
Barb
Steph – I too would have frogged. Inevitably after picking up stitches, something else would have gone wrong. Besides, I knit faster than I pick stitches up.
*Rooting through stash* Now what irresistable blue yarn do I have that I can pawn off on our harlot?
I agree with Melissa. There is something so satisfying about stitch surgery. Everyone makes mistakes, but performing some insane feat of skill to correct the mistake is an art, all its own.
I think I know why knitting “purists” hate crochet hooks….
Anyone can frog. It takes a real harlot to do that kind of mistake repairing.
I once repaired a 15 row cable on a gansey over 20 repeats. I didn’t make that same mistake again. ;-P
I did that, dropping 43 rows down, thirteen stitches on a mohairy-wool project knit tight for warmth–absolute misery to repair. But when I got all done! It was worth it. It looked so perfect. All was right with the world.
I’m so glad you at least didn’t have to frog the whole thing!
I’m confused. You refer to the tank as blue (not blue) the picture is purple, I saw one is green and one that looked khaki. What color is it? You are too funny! I love your site.
I would have stuck with perplexing decreases on one side – but then I’m a lazy s*d. Plus I rarely actually wear anything I knit, weird eh ? But you do realise that crochet hook thang was practically an A response to a C problem ? You’re just working your way through the alphabet !
I have to say, I really, really like the blue. The real colour of the yarn. I seem to have the same malady that you have, if it is indeed a malady: I reorganized my WIP stash in its chest of drawers by colour, and found that one drawer was bulging open with a dress, a halter top and two pullovers all half finished, all in blue, plus yarn for several more. In the “not-blue” drawer, one red skirt and one barely begun green cabled one huddle together in loneliness. And I just bought more blue yarn last week.
I don’t think it’s because we’re both sad, I think that like me, you look absolutely stunning in blue. A knitting goddess doesn’t allow things like little moods to mar the perfection of her work. Obviously blue is just the best colour to knit with.
And do I remember correctly that you’re knitting with Cotton Twist? Or was that the previous blue tank? Oh dear, I’m confused. I think I’ll pretend that this is from Cotton Twist, because of the additional insanity of correcting all these stitches that will split every time they’re touched by a crochet hook?! Wow.
I’m knitting a Cotton Twist tank, so this is all fresh in my mind (mine is rusty brown, nowhere near as fun as the Tank of Many Colors). I only dropped one or two stitches maybe 20 rows to correct split stitches. How come I didn’t notice that tuft of rayon sticking out 20 rows ago when I can’t miss it now???
I wouldn’t have ripped or repaired. I would have made one strap TOTALLY different from the other (maybe one would become a cap sleeve) and declared it a design feature.
Maybe you have to be tall to get away with it though?
Golly. You have the patience of a saint. When I drop a stitch and it runs only three or four rows, I consider throwing the piece in the fireplace and taking up croquet. I couldn’t imagine all that work 15 times over. I would honestly die.
But you’re right. It is the blue getting revenge. Stop striking the color and maybe it will be appeased?
(I was just thinking, though, looking at all the colors it’s been, how cool it would be to have a tank that randomly changed hues, like the horse of a different color from Wizard of Oz.)
What a whack-job you are. The really scary part is, I would’ve totally done the same thing.
Remember the old standby retort, “it takes one to know one”. Well, there ya go.
And I *so* need Photoshop.
Sadly, I rather _like_ fixing something by laddering down and using a crochet hook to bring it up. I’ve even done this with cables and with Fair Isle, and I have a favorite crochet hook I live in fear of losing.
So far, though, I am defeated by mistakes in lace, which seems to demand frogging. (Perhaps this is why I am leaving the lace to my boyfriend.)
I feel for you, I’ve had to drop down and rework like that a few times myself. I find that a small latch hook tool (I have one that I use with my fine gauge knitting machine) makes for much easier re-working of stitches vertically.
Good luck.
How did you know that’s what I was doing yesterday, too? My audrey’s increases didn’t work very well. It’s only myself to blame and blame I did. So run, hook, hook, hook, hook, sit back and look. run, hook, hook, hook, hook, etc.
Ain’t it a blast?
How funny is it that when I look at the pictures of the tank (of many colours) it doesn’t strike me as odd anymore that the colour’s always different? I’d like to see it in orange, please! haha
Nice work on the surgery!