Not Feelin' the Love

So I've been slowly (and I do mean VERY slowly) making some headway on all the Christmas knitting. For each project, there's been something that I've truly enjoyed: the yarn or the pattern (sometimes both) or perhaps its learning a new technique.

With my most recent project (a cabled rib scarf pictured above) I can't seem to find anything that "speaks" to me.  I'm just not feelin' the love.  And I'm not sure why.

It's the same Bernat Worsted I'm using for the  Fingerless Gloves, but since its at a looser gauge, the fabric definitely feels softer and more drapey (makes sense since I'm using 3.0mm for gloves, but 6.5mm for scarf).  Unfortunately the nice striping obscures some of the cabling detail.  Should I drop the cable pattern and just make a ribbed scarf?  Hmmm . . .

Part of me just doesn't want to frog and cast on yet again.  I think I cast-on and ripped out about 5 times. :O  Finally on the sixth try, I managed to finish row one.  Of course then I messed up some of the cables by "accidently" cabling too soon (maybe I should have been keeping track of the rows).  Perhaps a sign from the knitting gods that the project might be doomed?  

To make matters worse, I can't find the same colorway.  Its called Granite and its discontinued as far as I can tell.  Me thinks this will be short scarf, more of an ascot (32-40")--unless I'm lucky enough to reach traditional scarf length (45-50").  Wish me luck.

Note: scarf lengths from Jane Davis' Knit Ponchos, Wraps and Scarves

Rrrrip, Rip, Rip . . .

See the beginning of my pretty sweater. It's a great free online pattern called Sprout from Amy King (I think I've linked her blog in one of my sidebars). I'm so excited! I love, love, love the bright blue. I wanted a summery cardi to wear for cool mornings. And the Red Heart Cotton Twist feels so nice in my hands (nothing at all like worsted cotton).

This cardi marks a new beginning in my knitterly life: it represents my first attempt at cables (my very first ever in my entire life)! Cabling is one of those skills I've wanted to master--or at the very least try. Cognitively I understood the concept and procedure; actually performing the process with yarn and needles was a whole different thing. A little fear of failure always held me back until . . . actually I'm not sure what finally compelled me to try. But now I'm making cables! I just can't seem to contain my joy (happy, happy, joy, joy)!

I was feeling rather pleased with myself until I discovered the pattern had short rows (so the back area below the collar would sit better on the body). I've only done short rows once before in the bust area of a tank top. At the time, I had re-played an online video over and over to get the "hang of it" (Thank heavens for Knitting-Help.com. What an excellent resource--lots of good videos with clear explanations). That first attempt had been passable, so I thought I knew what I was doing--the key word being "thought". Feeling somewhat cocky, I proceeded with the short-rows without a video to reference (why are short rows called wrap-and-turn? There's no wrapping unless you've turned your work first. Shouldn't it be "turn-and-wrap"?). Then it was time to pick up the wraps :O

Needless to say I messed up--well, perhaps not too badly. One side looked fine (where I picked up the wraps on the knit side), but I made a mess on the other side. The wraps were quite visible on the right side. I was gonna let it go and continue on. After all, who was gonna notice? My hair would probably cover up the enitre mess. Still, those damn wraps kept taunting me (I swear there was name-calling involved). The mess had to go!

So I inserted a smaller sized circular through the row before the W & T mess and unravelled. Unravelling can leave you in one of two moods: either tense and nervous about the whole experience (as if you are committing some horrible crime), OR relieved in catharsis as if you've unloaded an awesome burden from your shoulders. I felt cathartic--no more taunting from those rude, rude wraps!

Back at square one. Still, what had I lost really? Maybe an hour of my time. Before I went to bed that night, I had re-knit the area with the short rows. Needless to say my second attempt was more acceptable.

Onward, knitter. Onward.

Clickety-clack go the needles . . .