I’ve spent approximately seven hours working on the first of a pair of fingerless gloves for Jeffrey (at his request–he wanted a pair after seeing my Ravelympics wristers). It’s taking longer than it normally would because I opted to design a pair rather than find a pattern. Designing, I’ve found, is addictive–I love it when I can look at something I knit and know that every aspect of it came from my imagination. It can also be an exacting job, especially for these fingerless gloves. They need to be snug enough to do the job but not so tight he can’t move his fingers. And I wanted to make sure there was some extra room for growth, since my son’s been known to grow 4 inches in a little over a month.
So, seven hours in to the job and I have…two rows knit.
The problem started when I had my son try on the fingerless-glove-in-progress this morning. Being a contrary 3-year-old, at first he didn’t want to wear it. I told him that I was going to wear it first, then. “No!” he wailed. “I want to wear it first!”
Man, 3-year-olds are easy.
Now he eagerly shoved his hand in and admired his almost-glove. The brightly colored variegated yarn is one he picked out himself at Little Knits, so I figured there was a decent chance he’d like it. He thought it was great and he loved the glove. I pulled out my measuring tape and measured the distance between the end of my knitting and where his fingers started, which is where I intended to bind off. But the more I measured, the more uneasy I got, seeing the glove on his hand.
It wasn’t that it didn’t fit…but it was just a little snugger than I liked. There wasn’t going to be any room for growth. Also, the placement of the thumb opening was off, which resulted in some of the stitch pattern that was supposed to be on the back of his hand actually wrapping around towards the palm a bit. But it was pretty good for a first attempt, I told myself, and after getting Jeffrey off to school and Lexie down for a nap, I went back to work.
I got one more row done…and then pulled out the needles and the stitch marker and frogged the whole durned thing. It wasn’t perfect and I wasn’t going to settle for less. Still, it was painful to watch my careful work disappear stitch by stitch.
I wasn’t going to blog about this–it was really just too depressing to think about. Besides, I figured if I spent my time knitting instead of typing, I might actually have some progress worth writing about after tonight’s Sit ‘n Knit. But then I read my most recent Knitter’s Review newsletter, where the featured conversation in the forums was about ending a long knitting session with less progress than when the knitter began. So I hopped over the forum to see that the original post was a rather forlorn question from a knitter wanting to know if anyone else had this happen, or if it was just her. I think the myriad of responses reassured her that it was most certainly not just her.
And it’s nice to know it’s not just me, either.