Riddled with Errors

As I typed the title to this post, I wrote "Riddles with Errors," which is possibly more appropriate. The scarf is possibly mutating into a neck ring, something insouciant to tuck into the open collar of a jacket, mostly because I can't knit fast enough to make a traditional-length scarf by the closing ceremonies. Also, because I have managed to make numerous errors, despite all of my best efforts. (An aside. I was reading someone's blog -- forgive me, I don't remember whose -- and there was a lovely lace scarf displayed. The author said, "There's an error, but I don't think it shows too much." An error. As in one. I cracked up.)

Rapidly emerging as the key thought about this project is "cut your losses." It would be a shame to waste the rest of this lovely yarn. I am not a knitter who believes that effort is all that matters, nor am I after machine-like precision. I would like, however, to be able to knit a lace pattern and not feature "design elements" like this one:


So, when I'm done with the current pattern repeat, I'm calling my entry done. Not necessarily medal-worthy, but done. And sometimes, that's just the way it goes.

But it's coming on spring, and it's all about new beginnings. See? A baby broccoli.

Fresh eggs!
Bees taking drinks -- right in our yard! See the little bee tongue?


And I know of at least 3 babies, excluding my own, who need hats or booties or something knitted. In bigger yarn. My own baby may need a sweater to match her older sister's. And my big girl NEEEEEEEDS that green cabled sweater, as I've been reminded.

I did learn a lot from this project. I learned that I cannot use only one lifeline, but should probably use a new one every four rows or so, so that ripping back is entirely painless, no matter how much fun I'm having knitting along. I learned that I can mess up picking up stitches from that there lifeline. I learned that I still don't have the sort of life that's conducive to knitting teeny yarn -- unless it's just my brain. I'll figure that out in a couple of years. I learned that fixing errors in lace is much harder than it seems, and so I keep making "fixes" that are worse than the problems.

My spouse was superdad last night, speaking of fixes. He took a horrible situation (blood, tears, shrieking) and made it into a great one, all by the application of good parenting. That's a man who gets near-immediate positive feedback. Frequently and with gusto!

So here's to fixes that don't make it worse, here's to a lovely chic neck ring, wrapped so that the errors don't show, here's to finding out that lace is, well, lots and lots of fun, here's to the birds and bees who live in my yard, and the man who shares my bed, making my life just that much sweeter.