always something to learn
I am not normally a big fan of shawls - they are lovely to look at and even fun to knit, but I don't have much occasion to wear them - but Stephen West's designs are quite appealing to me for some reason. They just seem more scarf-like and wearable than those big lace numbers. Because of this, Herbivore has been in my queue for quite a while, and a couple of nights ago, I finally cast on.
I thought it would be a breeze, something I could whip up and off the needles in just a couple of days. After all, it takes about as much yarn as a pair of socks, or less, and the pattern only takes up one page and, well, it just didn't look that hard.
Hubris, hubris. Easy? How wrong I was. I knit a few rows, it looked like crap, I pulled it out. I cast on again, knit a few rows, it looked like crap, I pulled it out. I cast on a third time, knit one row, figured I wasn't going to get any further without help, and gave up for the night.
Because, you see, I had figured out my problem: I never learned the proper way to do a yarnover, yo (har). I vaguely remembered reading on a blog somewhere (Glenna's, I think) that there is, in fact, a right and wrong way to execute a yarnover in knitting, but since I hadn't ever had a project where it mattered enough to notice, I never bothered to look it up. Well, it matters in this design, my friends, and I know why: it's because the holes are made between knit and purl stitches. Sometimes you knit, make a hole, then purl, sometimes you purl, make a hole, then knit, and sometimes the holes are made between knit stitches. It turns out that wrapping the yarn around the needle any old way just won't do. You have to be consistent or it looks like crap. Since I'd never learned the right way in the first place, I finally googled it, found a picture tutorial, and had it all figured out in about 3 minutes.
Sometimes I love the internet.
Here's what I've got so far:
It doesn't look like much, but it sure beats the hell out of the frustration I was experiencing before.
Next I'll show you the 3-hour hat that took me a month and five attempts. Yeesh.
I thought it would be a breeze, something I could whip up and off the needles in just a couple of days. After all, it takes about as much yarn as a pair of socks, or less, and the pattern only takes up one page and, well, it just didn't look that hard.
Hubris, hubris. Easy? How wrong I was. I knit a few rows, it looked like crap, I pulled it out. I cast on again, knit a few rows, it looked like crap, I pulled it out. I cast on a third time, knit one row, figured I wasn't going to get any further without help, and gave up for the night.
Because, you see, I had figured out my problem: I never learned the proper way to do a yarnover, yo (har). I vaguely remembered reading on a blog somewhere (Glenna's, I think) that there is, in fact, a right and wrong way to execute a yarnover in knitting, but since I hadn't ever had a project where it mattered enough to notice, I never bothered to look it up. Well, it matters in this design, my friends, and I know why: it's because the holes are made between knit and purl stitches. Sometimes you knit, make a hole, then purl, sometimes you purl, make a hole, then knit, and sometimes the holes are made between knit stitches. It turns out that wrapping the yarn around the needle any old way just won't do. You have to be consistent or it looks like crap. Since I'd never learned the right way in the first place, I finally googled it, found a picture tutorial, and had it all figured out in about 3 minutes.
Sometimes I love the internet.
Here's what I've got so far:
It doesn't look like much, but it sure beats the hell out of the frustration I was experiencing before.
Next I'll show you the 3-hour hat that took me a month and five attempts. Yeesh.
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