Grandpa’s sock- despite the SERIOUS progress I made on the foot, (non-knitters, that means I’m essentially done the damn thing), will need to be ripped back to square 1, or in this case, the first cast on stitch. *SIGH*
How did I get this far along on the thing to only be turned back now?
I cast on 72 stitches on a US size 2 needle, (Canadian knitters will have to forgive me as I haven’t converted yet), throughout the leg portion of the sock I had concerns that the sock might be a touch large- but I soldiered on. I kept telling myself, “you’re a skinny girl- but grandpa’s legs are bigger and it’ll fit his legs”- and I just knit and knit and knit and knit. Perhaps I was blinded by the glare of finishing these in a timely fashion, or just wanted to move on to another project, but I didn’t stop.
WHY DIDN’T I STOP?!
The husband came home from work late last night, sat down on the couch and noticed what I was knitting and asked immediately, “are those for a giant?”. *sigh* Now before we start railing on the husband’s insensitivity I’ve stated here before, I’d much rather have him take interest in what I’m doing and look at it with a critical eye than say “that’s nice” and not really care about what I’m making. However, with this preference also comes the honest truth, something I wasn’t willing to admit to myself.
He’s right. They’re too big. I could not deny and make up excuses any longer. But with this painful conclusion also comes the even more painful solution- FROG it. Rip it back to the start, drop the needle size, (I’m thinking US size 0- will I regret?), and go again. *SIGH*
I probably wouldn’t have cared so much if these weren’t for my grandpa, maybe even kept them for myself in their slouchy, oversize, or donated them to charity- but there are two reasons I can’t.
1) It’s Koigu (*slobber)- and as lovely and wonderful as Koigu (slobber) is, it ain’t cheap, I’m committed to making some nice socks from this stuff- and I need to follow through.
2) These socks are being made for the one person who was in his own state of denial when I learned how to knit. I don’t think Grandpa really believed that knitting would become what is HAS become to me. I think he thought I’d pick up the needles, do it for an afternoon and never go back. That didn’t happen, instead I became obsessed- and to this day I don’t think he really believes it. These socks, for him and me, are proof that I can see things through to the finish, and not only that, get a lot better along the way. They need to be perfect. They need to fit.
Which is why I need to go back to the very beginning.
I have eleven days to knit a pair of socks. CAN I DO IT? (Even with a full time job) You bet I’m going to try.
Here's the sock before... 75% completed!
Sigh... so it begins-- I ripped the needles out. (PAIN!!!!)
And then begins the frogging...
The after... all that pretty sock, back on the swift... AGAIN