All in all I am a calm sort of person. I get on with people, I’m friendly, I’m very good at relaxing even with multiple anxiety disorders. My Dad has a very chilled out attitude to life even when things are tough and to an extent I inherited that attitude.
Except… except sometimes that isn’t possible. Sometimes my inner rage-monster rises up from the deep to Hulk smash over everything in a parade of mixed metaphors.
Do you remember the mittens? Yes, those ones. With the Bad Word (not Bad Wolf as I keep trying to type. Stay out of this, Rose). They are a commission for my boss and, since she sees me knitting them, I don’t have the excuse to knit anything else until they’re done. I have another commission and some gorgeous sock yarn waiting for me once they’re finished so I’m in a rush.
You can see where this is going.
First I realised I had knit two inches of complicated, fiddly stranded colourwork past where I should have cast off a thumb hole. I sat there aghast, desperately trying to figure out if I could wing it. Alas, I could not. Numb with rage, I ripped out those many, many stitches and sulked.
By the time I got to knitting at Kniterary that evening I had managed to regain the couple of inches, this time with added thumb hole. Only I stared at the pattern, realised to my horror that I had messed it up completely, and ripped it back right to the cuff (about three inches!). I cut off a tangled chunk and growled.
A second later the room fell quiet as I went pale, prominent eye-twitch in place as I put the mitten down on the table and took deep breaths. When asked what was wrong, I revealed that I had just ripped back three inches that was perfectly fine. Yep, I’d misread the pattern again and in fact everything I’d just frogged was ENTIRELY FINE.
Flames. Flames on the side of my face.
Today I’m calm enough to have nearly finished the final mitten, but oh, oh the rage. I’m not normally one for temper tantrums but if these weren’t for someone other than myself I would be throwing them off the nearest cliff, possibly on fire.
Has any knitting made you into a rage-monster?