Of course I ripped it out. I just wouldn’t be me, if I hadn’t. I would have finished the sweater, and hated it every time Jacob wore it. And that’s no way to feel about a hand-knit. So all’s well that ends well, I’m happy with my decision, etc. I’m not as happy with my progress since then…
Neither am I particularly happy with my progress on the Cleopatra Wrap.
(I wound the silk lace with my ball winder and swift, very carefully and slowly, and while I will never get back that rather painful hour of my life, neither will I lose untold more hours weeping untangling the stuff because it flew off of my equipment. It’s probably a good trade.)
Instead of, oh, I don’t know, knitting, I spent the week losing myself in wonderful cheesy escapist fantasy books and David McCullough’s “Truman”. I didn’t knit at all on Tuesday, and got through mere rows the rest of the week. It felt good, though. I just hope I can keep myself from rummaging through the bookshelf long enough to finish something, this time.