There I sat this morning with my knitting and my coffee.
I finished a row, took a look . . . and oh, no.
A glaring mistake about 1 inch down.
I couldn't believe it. And this is with it not being blocked yet. Once it's blocked it's going to be worse.
What a way to start the day.
See it?! Right where the tip of my needle is. For some reason . . . known to no one . . . I inserted an extra cable twist.
I know . . . I can work to that part of the row, rip down that section only, fix the cable blunder and then rework the stitches back up to the top. . . but all the rows after that have cables that involve the same stitches. With all the thinking and brain cells I would have to use (I'm stressing just contemplating it!!), I'm not sure that it would save any more time than just frogging it back.
I know what you are thinking. "library girl, with all those cables no one will see it." I know you are thinking that because . . . well, of course that's what I thought. Then I also thought, well it's the sleeve. When it is sewn together it's going to be on the back. Who is ever going to look at the back of my arm?
Then my father's voice is in my head, "If it's worth doing, it's worth doing right." Really? Does every mistake have to be fixed? Can't we just 'let go' of some things and live with some imperfections?
Then my mother called. I explained my dilemma and her first words were, "Who is the sweater for?" In other words, if it is for someone else, it has to to be fixed. I knew that. I could never sleep at night if I gave something with a known error. (I have enough trouble sleeping at night as it is!) I also thought, 'hey, aren't i worthy of a sweater without mistakes?'
Then I thought even more and I decided there may be a few life lessons here.
Something about changing/fixing what you can and accepting what you can't. Something about doing your best even if no one is looking.
Something about using your good dishes.
Since I would prefer to call it 'my peach cabled sweater' and not my 'sweater with the mistake in the sleeve' . . . I will fix it tonight. Then I will sit down and have a glass of wine in one of my beautiful, delicate wine glasses. I may even have it by candle light.
Until next time, keep your nose in a book or your fingers in fiber.