As a knitter, we all know those projects that you start with enthusiasm and excitement. You spend a hour at the yarn shop picking just the right fibre and then another hour hemming and hawing over the colour choice. Some of us even read the pattern over before we start, circling the size you are following or starring special instructions not to be missed (something I need to do more often). We cast on with little pitter-patters of excitement in our heart, dreaming of how good we will look when we walk out on the town wearing our new item.
And then it happens, perhaps you hit a particularly hard instruction, you scour Ravelry for advice, only to realize that no one else in the world has had the problem you have. Or perhaps the colour combination you chose would be better suited for your pet. Maybe you were like me, an ambitiously new knitter, who bit off more than you could chew.
I started the Delancey Cardigan after falling head over heals with how hip and trendy it looked. I loved the chevrons and the tuxedo like neck fold. Having only been a knitter for 1 year, it would be my first sweater and I was up for the challenge. I ordered yarn from Knit Picks (thankfully not the most expensive option) and was thrown when they arrived, looking different than the online image I remembered. Blasted non-retina screen! I cast on with slightly deflated gusto, but I was still determined to make the sweater…until I got to the arms. I was not used to starting a sleeve from the body, actually, I was not used to knitting sleeves period. My first several rounds were hideous, but I didn’t want to rip it out, it took me a good hour just to figure out how to start. I figured I could just fix the holes later. Well, later never came. My frustration with making sleeves with using DPN’s (I would later learn about the magic loop) got the best of me and I set it aside for the next year and a half.
The cardigan has been sitting in the corner mocking me for my lack of commitment and every time my eyes wonder to it I feel a sense of guilt. Why don’t I just get rid of it? Rip it out. Frog that project! Well the time has come. I’m not even going to bother frogging it, it is just going in the garbage. Too rash? I hope not. I imagine this weight being lifted from my shoulders as I hear the garbage truck rumble off into the distance.
Now what to do with those ridiculously difficult mittens I started last year…