Of course, sometime a couple of nights ago, I was tired (admitting that), and I forced myself to work at least two rows.
Never mind that one of those rows was full of yarn overs.
Never mind that I was exhausted due to work at the office.
I was going to do that row as if my life depended on it.
And of course, you know, that I really should have waited until the weekend when I could be rested and fresh, but NO. Not me.
So I did the row, then did another--and I counted to make sure everything was there, and the count "came out".
So how is it that I missed a yarn over?
So I tinked back on the knit row, and looked VERY carefully, found it, and marked it with a pin.
And what did I do then?
I went home from the office, completely exhausted and tried to fix it. Did it work?
I think I made it worse.
How can you make it worse? Well, I think I zigged, when I should have zagged, so I'm leaving it to take with me on Saturday to the Allegan Fiber Festival, and I will sit in a chair and hunt down the error in the yarn over row--which means tinking back ALMOST to the beginning of the row where I made the boo boo.
Now I am not a stupid knitter. I am not so stupid that I can't count to at least 10, and there were only 8 stitches in the repeat, so I figured I was good to go. Therefore, naturally, I did not use a lifeline. I have lots of life left in me (at least I like to THINK so), and I rarely use lifelines, because I can usually drop down with a bamboo needle, even on lace, and fix any boo boos that I make. However, making a yarn over boo boo (or in this case, perhaps an sk2p boo boo) makes a small, small hole, (or a big mess) instead of a medium hole (or a larger one if you happen to work it incorrectly), which is to tight, and the shawl is such a pretty color that I didn't want to ruin things by making this mistake in the first place (hence the constant counting 1-8...over and over, ad infinitum, until my husband finally cries "ENOUGH ALREADY!" Note to self: He is not a knitter, and does not understand these things.)
He is considering going to the fiber festival with me. This might not be a bad thing. I don't think he's ever been to one. I think it would be nice if he shared my love for knitting. But I fear that he's going because he knows I just got my paycheck, and I think he believes I'm going to spend it all on frivolous trash that I (according to him) already have. Last year, I came home with very little--I think I purchased some roving--but that was all. For a while, I thought I might come home with a bunny, but I didn't find the color I wanted. And I thought I might get an Alpaca, but you really have to buy two of those or they get lonely (kind of like sheep, they are herding animals). But since hubby has torn all my fenced area down, I figured that wouldn't do. But anything I can buy there, I can buy on the web. I also saw some brand new baby cashmere goats being born, which I thought was just the coolest thing--but again, I have no place to graze them, either. So I sighed and went back through the yarn and fiber and patterns and tools and people and gathered up the fiber, tossed it into the car and left for the gas station, where I would buy my favorite drink and head for home.
If he goes, and tries to stop me from spending, it will make me angry. I want him to support me. But there's only so much support one man can give. I have an entire room devoted to yarn and fiber and patterns and fabric and books and tools and, and, and...I just don't think he can carry all that, and the fiber festival too.
Whatever was I thinking when I invited him to go with me? The last time he went, he ruined it for me, right from the beginning on the drive down. See? I just remembered it! I did have him go with me one other time. I must have blocked it out because it was such a disaster! When I go to these things, I like to SHOP. He is not a shopper. I like to browse. He is not a browser. I like to touch and feel things. He has carpal tunnel--so "feeling" is not even in the equation. Maybe I can put him back in the sheep competitions, and let him SMELL.
And since I'm already going to have to deal with someone there, I really don't want to have to deal with anything else that's being nasty and mean. So I'm going to talk with him. Not to talk him out of it, but only to let him know that he needs to be on his best behavior and support me and have fun. Otherwise, I might leave him there to walk home.
(really evil grin)