I did an Internet search on the topic “Knitting in the Dark”. Among the things I found were:
- A funny blog post by Sweaty Knitter
- An Etsy Store (I’m so jealous of people that manage to earn a living this way)
- A blog about a product to help people who knit in the car like me.
I, of course, immediately purchased the product. And with good reason.
It was a cold winter, so I started a “simple squares throw” for my bed–which seemed practical and easy. I chose this pattern not only for it’s simplicity, but also because I had made it previously and loved the look. Lately, I’m so mentally tired building talks and python notenooks on machine learning and quantum computing–when I pick up my sticks–it needs to be restful.
I thought I would be able to knit, not think. Except–that’s an oversimplification. I failed to think of another problem–that not only was I knitting in the dark with a dark yarn, but that sometimes even simple projects aren’t so simple when you are tired.
You know how they say that driving tired can make your reaction time slower–even than if you’ve been drinking? The same appears to be true with knitting. You lack good judgement and just assume everything will be okay. After all, you tell yourself “How long have I been knitter?”
In this case, I would pull the project out of the bag and just knit whatever direction seemed right. And sometimes I got it wrong. So I created short row holes in the middle of a blanket that needs neither holes or short rows.
Earlier this week in the bright sunny light, I laid it out to survey my progress. I was so proud of how much progress was made on such a big project (it’s about 8′ across). I was about a 1/3 done (up about four squares). That’s when I noticed first one hole, two and then three. At first I tried dropping down 80 rows to an affected stitch and that’s when I realized how unfixable it was–I didn’t find a dropped stitch, I encountered a loop!
So tear, tear, tear it out I did, some 90 rows on a 8′ wide piece. /sigh!
It took a couple of days of ignoring it for me to come back around and reconsider it a worthy project. And now I’m, well, back to square one.