ceud míle fáilte
a hundred thousand welcomes
Saturday, 23 February 2008
Good Gordon Highlanders. I mean REALLY! There was I thinking that I could make the most divine little cable bag, called 'Coco', for my Mum. *slaps self on forehead* I have the yarn, I have the needles, I have the cable needles (hah - I iz prepared!), I have the pattern, I have time to do it. Sadly, I don't seem to possess the skill. Jeez. Miss Coco has been playing merry hell with my patience, something that is not usually disturbed by much, but those cables are enough to make a saint blaspheme, and believe me, here the air has been BLUE, BLUE, BLUE! Madame Coco is refusing to behave.
Cast on 56 stitches. Check. Do the preparation row. Check. Do the first cable row. Check. Count the stitches on the next row of knits and purls. Check.... Whoa - 55 stitches. Okay, I can make that up - it's only the 2nd row, right? Okay, and continue: 2nd cable row. Check. Row of k and p. Check. Oh bugger that for a game of soldiers. 54 stitches. FROG.
And repeat. And repeat. Oh yes, and repeat...
I did manage to get to row 7 once in the session, though. I felt mighty proud until I counted the stitches and found there were 58. This was around attempt 8, I think. Duchess Coco was thrown down in disgust. Picked up again, frogged and then thrown down again in disgust. Well, the needles were, as there wasn't any knitting left to chuck.
But, that was last night. This afternoon I completed one whole (yes indeedy, ladies and gentlemen, one WHOLE) repeat. Eight entire rows. No extra stitches. No dropped stitches. 'Twas indeed a miracle. Or someone came in during the morning and did it for me while I was out picking up my new passport from the post office*. Either way, this evening there sits one demurely subservient cable repeat. Meek and chic Miss Coco is back. Although I'm now too frightened to try any more, like I'm somehow tempting the Fates of Wool to begin their capers anew.
But silver linings appear in the most hopeless of situations and at least I learned some things... Firstly, 1 o'clock in the morning is NO time to knit anything more complicated than a 1x1 rib. Percy's strap can testify to that. Secondly, it really helps to keep the yarn out of the way when slipping the stitches on and off the cable needle. Man, that took a while to sort out! A kitten in a basket of loose wool creates less anarchy. Thirdly, cables are possible for the uninitiated, you just have to add a generous handful of calm, a sprinkling of understanding, a splash of daylight and a bucket load of humour.
*As for the passport. Gads - that was a worry. Don't get me wrong - I'm perfectly eligible for a passport - no girl-on-run, me! No, but this was the first time I've had to re-new it, and seeing as I am in France, I had to go on a bit on a run-a-round to see how I could get it done. Actually, it's quite easy. Fill in the forms, get a French bankers cheque (but my GAWD - how much?!!), a SAE and send all including the old passport to the British Embassy. Actually, it's supposed to be quite easy, but as I'm completely crap at anything that involves paper, money or common sense, I was expecting to have to cancel gigs outside this fair country when my new passport failed to appear. "Ahm zorry, mademoiselle, bit you mist 'ave zent eet to ze wrong addrezz. Eet ees not 'ere." Etc, etc. Being passport-less was a strange and rather disembodying experience, but it is now safely nestled in my bag. I feel legitimate again!
And now I'm going off to do some more 1x1 rib on Percy's strap. I'm actually looking forward to some banality. Funny how things change!
Cast on 56 stitches. Check. Do the preparation row. Check. Do the first cable row. Check. Count the stitches on the next row of knits and purls. Check.... Whoa - 55 stitches. Okay, I can make that up - it's only the 2nd row, right? Okay, and continue: 2nd cable row. Check. Row of k and p. Check. Oh bugger that for a game of soldiers. 54 stitches. FROG.
And repeat. And repeat. Oh yes, and repeat...
I did manage to get to row 7 once in the session, though. I felt mighty proud until I counted the stitches and found there were 58. This was around attempt 8, I think. Duchess Coco was thrown down in disgust. Picked up again, frogged and then thrown down again in disgust. Well, the needles were, as there wasn't any knitting left to chuck.
But, that was last night. This afternoon I completed one whole (yes indeedy, ladies and gentlemen, one WHOLE) repeat. Eight entire rows. No extra stitches. No dropped stitches. 'Twas indeed a miracle. Or someone came in during the morning and did it for me while I was out picking up my new passport from the post office*. Either way, this evening there sits one demurely subservient cable repeat. Meek and chic Miss Coco is back. Although I'm now too frightened to try any more, like I'm somehow tempting the Fates of Wool to begin their capers anew.
But silver linings appear in the most hopeless of situations and at least I learned some things... Firstly, 1 o'clock in the morning is NO time to knit anything more complicated than a 1x1 rib. Percy's strap can testify to that. Secondly, it really helps to keep the yarn out of the way when slipping the stitches on and off the cable needle. Man, that took a while to sort out! A kitten in a basket of loose wool creates less anarchy. Thirdly, cables are possible for the uninitiated, you just have to add a generous handful of calm, a sprinkling of understanding, a splash of daylight and a bucket load of humour.
*As for the passport. Gads - that was a worry. Don't get me wrong - I'm perfectly eligible for a passport - no girl-on-run, me! No, but this was the first time I've had to re-new it, and seeing as I am in France, I had to go on a bit on a run-a-round to see how I could get it done. Actually, it's quite easy. Fill in the forms, get a French bankers cheque (but my GAWD - how much?!!), a SAE and send all including the old passport to the British Embassy. Actually, it's supposed to be quite easy, but as I'm completely crap at anything that involves paper, money or common sense, I was expecting to have to cancel gigs outside this fair country when my new passport failed to appear. "Ahm zorry, mademoiselle, bit you mist 'ave zent eet to ze wrong addrezz. Eet ees not 'ere." Etc, etc. Being passport-less was a strange and rather disembodying experience, but it is now safely nestled in my bag. I feel legitimate again!
And now I'm going off to do some more 1x1 rib on Percy's strap. I'm actually looking forward to some banality. Funny how things change!
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