on knitting but having little to show for it

Dipping into my newly acquired yarn stash for the first time was a little like being a kid in a candy shop. I wanted to rip into every single skein and do a little stockingette, just to get a feel for the yarn. During this exercise, perhaps the yarn would tell me what it wants to become. Okay, I confess, I don’t roll that way as a knitter. I’m more firmly planted in the “find an irresistible pattern, buy some yarn, knit it up following the pattern to the letter of the law” school of knitting. It’s the same way with cooking. I am drawn to recipes by way of gorgeous color photography. I buy the ingredients and cook them up rather than dig through the fridge pulling out whatever lurks, whipping them into something edible. So it goes with music. I can read music like nobody but I struggle to memorize it, and I certainly don’t play by ear.

Though I yearn to be a more intuitive knitter, I know it will only come with more practice. Also, I need to branch out of beyond my comfort zone of stockingette and garter stitch to try lacy openwork and cables and intarsia or color changes—and I want to do it all. To avoid commitment anxiety inherent in the question of where to start, I closed my eyes and reached into my stash. When I opened my eyes, I was not disappointed to find a small, super-soft skein of olive-colored Rowan Classic yarn (50% merino, 50% silk in a DK weight). Fortunately I remembered that when I purchased this yarn at the Yarnery’s sale, I made plans for it to be knitted into a scarf.

And, some time shortly after my knitting class ended, oh, back in April (the 20th, to be precise), I picked up my #6 wooden needles and cast on 49 stitches. The stitches are easy to execute, even though my needles are a little grabby—they’re splintering and catching in the yarn. I found the the Midwest Moonlight scarf in Scarf Style—part of a fantastic series from Pam Allen and Interweave Press—where it was photographed in an icy blue. The scarf’s pattern is a variation of Barbara Walker’s tilting blocks pattern, which becomes quite evident after you get through the first 16 rows, with eight rows leaning in one direction and the next eight in the other.

A google search for “tilting blocks scarf” and “Midwest moonlight scarf” yields many references, as well as photos of finished objects. Here are a few. Popular indeed. A few knitters even noted the length of time it took them to knit the scarf, ranging from one sitting to four or five, which I imagine is reasonable for an intermediate knitter. But one knitter went so far as to call the pattern tedious.

Here’s what I have knitted.



And I’m ripping it all out. Somehow, I messed up the pattern, which is now difficult to distinguish. The frustrating thing: I have started this scarf no fewer than twenty-two times. Yes, I’m counting. For some reason I can’t knit the pattern for more than two sets before I completely screw it up.

A few weeks ago, I decided that I would learn how to “unknit” (knit back) as soon as I realize I have made a mistake so that I don’t go for rows, getting myself further in a pickle. Knitting in hand, I went to The Yarnery and got help during clinic. The nice ladies who were at the yarn shop, knitting during the middle of the day, gave me lots of advice. I came home, feeling pretty smug about being further along on this scarf that at any of my previous twenty-one attempts.

Eight rows later, I’d bungled the pattern AGAIN.

Sensing my mounting frustration, John has asked me to start a different project. I do have stash, after all. But, there is the commitment anxiety. And, something about this scarf is compelling. So I will rip out all the stitches, and start one more time.

A back-up plan would be wise…