…but I think this shawl might just about do for me by the time I’m done with the Ravelympics project I’ve picked out. I think the yarn is cursed. Or possibly the needles. Or maybe it’s just me.
This is the yarn.
Looks innocuous enough, doesn’t it? Springlike, light, pretty. Well, you’re wrong. There’s evil in that yarn. But the only cure is for me to get the shawl finished and delivered to it’s rightful owner. I started this pattern last April, quickly discovered that it would drive me mad and frogged it. I rewound the ball of yarn, found a lovely crochet pattern, dug out the crochet hook and made a start. I got to this
before discovering the inherent evil in this mohair. I loved the pattern and was really enjoying crocheting it up, but the ball of yarn was magically shrinking in front of my eyes. At the rate it was disappearing, I might just manage a nice cushion cover with this pattern, but there was no way I was getting a full length wrap. So, back to plan A. I frogged it (again), and cast on to knit the original pattern. I managed 18 rows before giving in to the despair and leaving it in the bag for three months. But I am determined this thing will not beat me! There are 22 sets of 16 rows to knit (each 16 rows makes one pattern repeat) and I WILL DO THIS BY THE END OF THE WINTER OLYMPICS! I may need some quiet time in a padded room by then…but that’s a whole other concern. So far I’ve knitted six of those twenty two pattern repeats. I’m aiming at another two today, after which I will only need to aim at one a day. Which is more than enough to test my patience, my temper and my sanity.
**I would like to point out that the yarn itself is very nice. It’s a 2ply (thin, for non-knitters!) kid mohair (fluffy, for non-yarnies!) yarn, and feels lovely to work with. It’s just so hard to see where all the stitches are, given the inherent fluffy factor. However, I’m trying to convince myself that this same fluff factor will make it harder to spot the inevitable mistakes!
**EDITED TO ADD I’ve just noticed that my keyboard is covered in suspiciously green yarn fluff. It hates me. It can read, or mind read, and it hates me. There is no hope. If noone hears from me for a few days, send in the search parties. Tell them to look under the mountain of pale green (with hints of peach) fluff.