The weariness with which I have been approaching knitting in this post-frenzy period has been punctuating with all sorts of commas, even semi-colons, the projects I've had the energy to start.
Allow me to demonstrate:
Recently I ripped out my big cowl to make a big collar before the snow hit again, but when I found the collar was too small to fit around my chin, I ripped it out and reknit it on much larger needles, only to find it was still too small and also now too floppy for the job, and required being ripped out also; I am now considering a scarf.
or
The other day I cast on some easy bus knitting, a test for a design idea I wrote down last fall, and had a pleasant morning putting several inches onto it; when I looked more closely after that time, I realized it was about four inches too wide, and so after much measuring and testing and consideration, I ripped it out and cast on fewer stitches.
or
I very much want a second pair of my beloved wool/mohair boot socks so I cast on with my remaining skein of their yarn using a pattern I am still working out; after completing the toe on both socks I came to know that the number of stitches I was working with would require the heel to be offset on each foot by one stitch, which is almost certain to loosen my grip on my senses, and prompted me not only to rip them out but to rework all the math on the draft pattern and to accept that the finished socks will not be as perfectly snug on my feet as their predecessors.
In good news, the revised socks seem not to need any more ripping yet:
and I have plans to spend today in a hospital waiting room where making up the lost hours on my easy knit will be very welcome indeed.
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