A few weeks ago, I was feeling pretty good about myself. I even went so far as to brag on this very blog about my cunning knitting skills. I said that knitting cables makes me feel smart and clever. I showed off a panel I had just magically produced with two sticks and some string.
Then, I tried lace. I had tried it before. At the bottom of my small stash there sits two very sad and forgotten projects. Their needles have been brutally ripped from their unsalvagable tangles and they have been left all alone to unravel as they please. Bad lace! Bad! But, I was feeling so cocky because of those cables. So, I pulled out a new skein of Madelinetosh Prairie (that I bought because it was a.) on sale, b.) a great color and c.) Madelinetosh) and cast on a shawlette I had been eyeing for some time.
I was trucking along, Jack. Feeling great. Row by gorgeous row, a shawlette was growing in my lap. I stopped often to stretch it out so I could see better how it would look after a good blocking. I rubbed it’s lucious merino-ness against my cheek from time to time just because. I mentioned it liberally on my blog. I was beginning to think of myself as a real lace knitter. Imagine that.
Then, last night, my lace struck back. They say pride goes before a fall, and boy! did I fall. Thank heavens I had a lifeline to catch me! In the space of two hours I accomplished two rows. Apparently, I can’t count to 17 very well. Or maybe the lace was playing an awful trick on me. I don’t know.
This isn’t the end. I will be back. I intend to finish that shawlette and wear it and know that I can knit lace. I intend to make many lacy projects and buy more lace-weight yarn. Lace, you haven’t heard the last of me!
But, maybe not today. Today is a good day for stockinette.