I’m convinced that gauge is really just a test of a knitter’s resolve. If you’re diligent enough, the knitting gods will reward your patience by magically giving you the gauge you desire, after a predetermined number of frogs, of course. It obviously couldn’t be the product of simple math, and a careful application of trial and error, right?
That being said, I introduce MFS 2.0
On the US 5 [3.75mm] Addi’s, I’m finally getting gauge. I could cry tears of joy if I weren’t worried about the effects of salt water on baby alpaca.
I finally got around to ripping back MFS 1.0. I pulled back and rewound all of the second ball, and once I got to the tail of the first ball I just re-cast-on using that end. That way I would be spared the task of having to wind the entirety of the first ball back into a center pull ball. I decided to just knit right off MFS 1.0, mercilessly cannibalizing it for greater purposes. Keeps the yarn from getting too tangled, I’ve noticed, as well. I certainly can’t complain about that.
And of course when I pulled out enough for the long tail and made my slip knot, I looked in my bag and lo and behold, I forgot my stitch markers. Thus began what I shall refer to as “the dark times”, wherein my boyfriend’s love for me and his desire for a sweater were tested as I made him keep track of the multiples of 10 stitches I was casting on, made him check my counting when I had cast on what I believed to be the requisite number of stitches, and then asked him if he thought I needed to count again. We made it through, with a little over an inch of sweater to show for it today.
I know now that frogging and pulling myself out of the deep pit of sweater denial was the best thing I could have done. It teaches me an important lesson,
fuck making a gauge swatch just start knitting the goddamn sweater, about patience and about the perseverance necessary in sweater construction.
I did get the opportunity to
shamelessly brag show off MFS 1.0 while my friends who don’t know any better asked what I was doing (besides cursing the heavens as I ripped back MFS 1.0). It was unanimously agreed upon that my boyfriend is a lucky man, I am a goddess among common girlfriends, and that I have a near cosmic sense of style and taste (ok, maybe I was the only one voting), but everyone did think that it was going to be a nice sweater and remarked how soft it was.
I’m just over here rejoicing that I don’t have to spend another $20 on needles, given my almost comical minimum wage earnings and my mounting student loan debt. Rejoice with me, fellow bloggers, for my merriment knows no bounds.