Lessons in Knitting

I've been tired lately.

I don't know if I am coming down with something and my body is trying very hard to fight it off without fully succumbing to illness. In which case allow me to publicly thank my white blood cells. Or maybe it has something to do with the fact that my neighbor's dog has decided that at 1:30 in the morning his shadow is a terrifying sight that can only be dealt with by barking at it until the sun comes up. Really, my exhaustion could be due to anything.

That's not the point.

My point is, I've been tired lately.

And it is affecting my knitting.

The other night I was knitting a top down raglan sweater in the most gorgeous purple mohair. The purple is a deep royal purple. The mohair is 20% silk, making it 20% more awesome than regular mohair. I'm really starting to love yarn with silk blended in. It gives it such a sheen and luster. I wanted to knit so badly that I sat on the couch and knit with my eyes closed as I tried not to fall asleep at the super loserly time of 9:30 p.m.

Of course this did not go well for me.

I discovered my stitch count was off. I could not determine if I had missed an increase, or added an increase that did not belong. I could not find a dropped stitch, or a mysterious yarn over that had turned into a stitch. There was no logical explanation for this mystery stitch.

I could have handled this situation in several different ways. I could have tinked back stitch by stitch until I found the problem and the stitch count was correct. I could have just skipped an increase, thus righting the stitch count. I could, and probably should, have set my knitting aside until morning, when I had fresh eyes, and daylight to see what I was doing.

Did I do any of those things?

Nope.

Of course I didn't.

I decided my best course of action was to rip out the five inches of knitting I had created.

Five inches of mohair.

It wasn't pretty. Mohair does not rip gently. The mohair clung to itself and refusing to give up its form under pain of death.  Fiber flew in the air. Tiny strands of mohair all around.

Mohair is a fighter. I'll give it that.

Once returned to a squishy ball of yarn. I cast on once again.

I knit about and inch and a half, AN INCH AND A HALF, before I realized something was horribly wrong. But I couldn't figure out what was wrong. I just knew my knitting was off.

This time I did the smart thing and went to bed. It was now a less loserly time of 10:30 p.m.

The next morning, armed with minimal sleep and daylight, I discovered this.

This is actually quite amazing. It is such a rookie/newbie mistake to twist your knitting when you join to knit in the round.

But I twisted it not once, not twice, but three time.

That's some serious skillz there. Yup, skillz with a z, cause that's how I rollz.

Learn from me.

For the safety of us all, do not knit under extreme sleep deprivation.

It just isn't worth it.

And don't wear lip gloss when frogging mohair.

Remember "tiny strands of mohair all around".

I'm just saying.