Trenchwork

I’ve learned a new trick. Check that. It’s not a new trick; it’s just one I’d never had to learn. I learned how to fix a mistake in my knitting by laddering down.

Why did I need to ladder in the first place? That Kiri shawl I had been working on? I frogged it. More times than I can count. I kept losing track of where I was in the pattern, and ended up cutting off and throwing away the first bit because the mohair I’m using is so horrific to rip out that sometimes it simply refuses to let that happen. After losing a couple yards of yarn that way, I realized that I just needed to switch patterns; I could come back to Kiri when I had a little more focus—and patience.

Instead, I started Miriam Felton’s Seraphim shawl. It’s a simpler pattern to get into, with a lovely edging. The core of the shawl consists of a knitted panel, divided down the middle by a pair of yarn-overs. Everything was going swimmingly until I happened to glance at the fabric and found I’d purled some 20 stitches I should have knitted . . . about five rows earlier. I did NOT want to rip out those five rows; I love the yarn, but I hate frogging it. After I finished cussing myself (shoot, shoot, shoot!), I decided it was a perfect opportunity to try and ladder.

I ran a 2mm circular through the row directly under the stitches to serve as a lifeline (a.k.a. a stopper in case the whole thing blew up), another through the column on the inside flank, and shifted the top row of stitches to a pair of stitch holders. Then I laddered one column at a time and used a crochet hook to “knit” back up the column. I know you could do all the stitches at once, but I haven’t quite got the guts for that one yet.

It worked. Of course it worked. The last stitch fixed, stitches back on the needle and safety line removed, I held up the repaired fabric and gazed at it rather smugly. There are a couple of uneven stitches, but they’ll balance out when the thing is blocked.

I am rather pleased with myself.

Little things.

And yep, I should have taken a picture of the thing, but it was midnight and I didn’t want to wait until I had good light to fix it. As for Trond, his initial response was that I should just leave it, but that was out of the question; it would have shown like a neon sign. When the job was done, he asked how I’d done it.

“I ripped out one column at a time,” I said, “and knitted it back up again.”

“You can do that?” he asked, and the incredulous expression was priceless. “It’s possible?”

I really should have had the camera.

He thought about it for a moment and grinned. “I’m glad I don’t know anything about that knitting stuff.”

I wonder what he’d have thought had he seen Yarn Harlot’s posts here and here.