So This Didn't Happen

So not everything can be a success story.

Remember my black wolly mammoth cocoon sweater?

Yeah.

I knit that stupid sweater all the way to 40 inches.

Sidenote:  Aren't my cats so helpful?

Only four inches to go and that sweater would be done.

But I was browsing Instagram and I saw this sweater pattern.

And it would be the perfect sweater to knit for Pork Chop to take to college next year.  We don't know exactly where she will be going to college yet, we are still waiting on a few more offers.  But since all the places she applied to were in colder climates she will need an expanded winter wardrobe.  And it just so happens that this beautiful pattern requires mohair of the same weight as my fuzzy cocoon.  After some waffling back and forth I decided to knit something I knew would be beautiful instead of my experiment into the absurd.

So the big fuzzy black cocoon went into the frog pile.

And frogging seemed like a good thing to do while I contemplate the striping pattern of my next Farmhouse shawl.

Only this sweater did not want to be frogged.  It resisted deconstruction with its entire being.  Every row or two the yarn would stick and break.  No matter how careful or gentle I was, I never made it more than two rows before it snapped.

It was not fun.  Add in thirteen or so more balls like this and I gave up.  In a fit of frustration I threw the entire thing into the trash.

Of course then, as I was climbing the stairs, I remembered that sometimes freezing mohair can make it easier to frog.   It seemed worth it to give this trick a try.  But when I went to rescue the black monstrosity from the depths of the kitchen trash can I discovered that the cat had puked on the kitchen floor.  And the children had actually cleaned it up all on their own with not intervention required on my part. (They may become responsible fully functioning adults after all).  But this rare burst of industry on their part meant my sweater was now resting in the garbage can covered in cat vomit.

It seemed like a good time to just walk away from it all.  The fuzzy cocoon.  The cabled sweater for college.  The vomit covered mess.  Sometimes dreams were meant to inspire but never be actualized.  This seems to be one that was designed to keep my busy but not productive.

So I turned my attention to this pile of left over yarn.

It just might be enough to knit a cute pink shrug for The Queen.

Even in defeat I dare to dream.