January Throw: How Hard is Too Hard?
And when do we decline the challenge?
Project Needed
January in Michigan is best addressed by not being in Michigan, or by embracing the depths of winter by getting outdoors, or by immersing oneself in a project that’s meaty enough to provide engagement and bit of distraction.
The first option is expensive and unrealistic (for us, anyway) and the second option is mostly precluded, for now, by early sunsets, bad roads, and frigid temps. A project is just the ticket to escape from this interminable month of shadows.
Recently I ran across a beautiful scarf pattern. It’s written for fingering weight yarn, but my plan was to enlarge it to worsted weight and, using size 9 needles, create a rectangular throw. Undaunted by Ravelry ratings of ‘difficult’ and ‘very difficult,’ I bought the pattern under the premise that I’ve never met a pattern I couldn’t master.
Counting
The swatch - the SWATCH - took me hours of complete concentrated silence - no audiobooks, no music, no TV. I switched needles from wood to steel, then back to wood, then back to steel. I ripped out and started over, so many times that the yarn started to split; it was challenging just to keep the the stitches on the needles. Every time my poor husband started to talk, I cut him off: “I’m COUNTING.”
I popped into the designer’s YouTube videos to look for hints, and I was encouraged by her clear description of her stacked increase. Seconds later, though, she mentioned that best practice is to use steel needles because this pattern breaks wooden needles.
I knit for pleasure.
Ideally, I get pleasure from the physical movements of knitting, the mastery of new techniques, and the appearance / function of the finished object. If one or two of these pillars is missing, I can usually find the motivation to power through by keeping my eyes on the prize.
As much as I love this design, though, the knitting process actually caused me physical pain - probably because I leveled up from fingering to worsted. I hadn’t banked on the sheer difficulty of manipulating the yarn through repeated stacked increases and decreases which drove the tension to near-impossible levels; eventually I was fighing with the yarn on every stitch.
Time to Frog.
This designer is a genius, and her work is stunning - but I only have so much time, fortitude, and joint strength. Could I do it? Yes; I did finally get one decent repeat. Do I want to do it? Well - that’s a tricky question. I do know, based on past experience and the notes in the thousands of projects on Ravelry, that I could master the technique and gain speed, and the hard-won swatch revealed a charming motif that did not disappoint.
I originally had no intention of putting the needles down. A patient knitter, I was prepared to rip out as many times as necessary. Also an obsessive knitter, I was expecting a rich, satisfying dive into a complex, challenging project.
The problem lay with my apparent willingness to spend countless hours on a project that seemed to be the opposite of relaxing. Was I ok with a stiff neck, aching fingers, and the requirement that my husband hold silence?
I frogged the swatch with regret and relief.
Because there are thousands of finished objects on Ravelry that validate the clarity of the designer’s instructions, and because I was using heavier yarn than the pattern recommends, it’s not fair to share the name of the pattern. I do plan on trying again, but with the recommended yarn weight - and when that happens I will share.
Meanwhile, I found another pattern that would produce results with the same flavor using some easy mosaic colorwork, simple grafting, and picking up stitches to build a garter-stitch binding around the entire throw. The pattern, by Two of Wands, is called Coast to Coast Wrap.
Because this is a throw instead of a shawl, I cast on roughly 50% more stitches than called for. The pattern’s projects on Ravelry are lovely, and it works up relatively quickly given its size.
While Knitting
As I knit, I’ll be listening to Thomas Mann’s The Magic Mountain when I’m alone; if I’m with my husband we will be listening to music - either classical or rock. (There’s a lot to be said for a little Vivaldi, Led Zeppelin or Pink Floyd on dismal days.)