Saturday started out beautiful and sunny here in Colorado. The day promised to be HOT and with that in mind I put out the kiddos pool in the backyard and set up the table on the deck with the comfy chairs and the umbrella. I looked forward to a day in the sun with the kiddos swimming and me working on my Mystery Stole clue.
Things were moving along great--kids having fun. By lunch time I had completed the first 50 rows. I had thought briefly about putting in a lifeline but the decided I'd wait until I finished the whole clue. What.could.possibly.go.wrong.in.50.rows?
I worked sporadically throughout the afternoon and by dinner time I had reached row 76. I was marveling at the beauty of the pattern. And I loved my beads. I was having a great time.
After dinner I had some cleaning up to do. Diva and Rage asked me to go back into their pool. I said fine and we all headed back outside--the kiddos to the pool and me back to MS3. There was a nice breeze and it was getting cooler--perfect evening. Then it happened. . .
I was thrilled--I had made it to row 99. Things were going along beautifully until I reached the end of the row. I needed 2 stitches before my marker--I had one. I didn't panic though. I sat and studied my knitting and the pattern figuring I'd missed a yarn over or something. I couldn't figure it out so I decided to tink back the row and try again. Nope--still short a stitch. So I tinked back a couple of rows--let me just say that this, in retrospect, seems like a HUGE mistake. I was now short 3 stitches. Things went like this for a while--while the kiddos played blissfully unaware of the panic gripping their mother.
Then out of nowhere a HUGE gust of wind blew my pattern to the deck. Not a big deal you say? You would be right unless of course lying on top of the pattern was the tiny crochet hook which went sailing through the air--seemingly in slow motion--and with skill worthy of an Olympic diver, twisted and turned in the air and landed just perfectly on the deck. Perfectly, that is, if falling into a crack never to be seen again could be construed as perfect. I'm just thankful that I didn't have the beads open then--imagine losing those?!
So a couple of expletives left my mouth as I gathered up my stole and the kiddos and headed inside. After a cooling off period--ie. giving the kiddos a bath and getting them ready for bed--I sat back down with my stole and gave up. I.ripped.it.all.out.
So close, so very close.
Today I went to Joanns and got not one but 2 crochet hooks--maybe I should invest in about 20 of them. And what was my first clue is wound into a ball in my knitting bag. I am really bummed, but I'll persevere. I guess the plus is that in my disgust today I was able to finish Goblet of Fire.
So how did your Mystery Stole knitting go?