This was supossed to be a post about love, a post about the kind nature of knitters around the world, it was supossed to be a story about socks, and about everything a sock could stand for... But not anymore, or at least not the way I had it pictured, now, it'll be a story about one of the most horrible things that can happen to a knitter, about angst and despair, about redemption and new beginings, this will be a story about frogging...
Many, many months ago, I took part in a mistery sock KAL hosted by the lovely Jen a.k.a Knitting Like Crazy, in order to participate for really pretty prices (a skein of sock yarn) you had to finish at least one sock and show a pic,
then names would be selected by a random thingy generator... The Fates saw fit that mine was one of the names randomly selected, I couldn't believe my luck, addresses were sent, and so a pretty skein of sock yarn took a plane to my country and to my hands... However, not everything was beautiful and perfect, the Fates proved to be a bunch of sadistics sociopaths that enjoyed making me suffer. The package took its time while coming to me, aparently because the postman designated to my area was sick and it was OH SO DIFICULT to find someone else to do the job ¬¬, but when it did, a gray and rainy november day, it was like a christmas eve, that was also your birthday, and you where eating bacon and cake, AND then you had an orgasm, yeah, it was THAT good...
This was the yarn I got
STR light weight (I think) in a colorway called "Knitters without Borders", in honor to Mrs. Harlot's organization.
I was ecstatic, skeins were hugged and sniffed, swatches were knitted
and patterns downloaded... At the end I decided to do a plain vanilla sock with How to Knit Socks: A FREE pattern and eBook - By Heather Ordover , because I didn't wanted nothing that messed with the colors... The yarn flew through my needles,
and the socks were done in what felt like an instant -although, Ravelry says that it took me almost a month-...
Once the socks were done, I wore them around three of four times,
always handwashing them... Until that time, when I forgot to, and my dad put them in the washing machine.This is were the horror -oh the horror- begins...
STR is a superwash merino yarn, so its technically washing machine friendly, even though that its recomended to handwash it... But taking into account what happened leads me to formulate the following hypotheses:
- There is a goblin living in my washing machine
- There is a goblin living in my laundry basquet
- A pervert sneaked into my house and did horrible, horrible things to my socks
- All of the above, plus a black hole of doom, an old lady with saggy boobs, and molested goblins...
Because what I found when the socks came out the the washer wasn't normal, wasn't natural, it went against every possible natural law, it spat into mother nature's face... This is what I found
Yes dear readers, a hole, an awfull, duckfucking hole in my heel flap... It was like if the yarn had just melted away.Tears were shed, angry fists were shaken into the sky, but the dreaded hole remained... After probably a week of waiting that the socks fixed themselves,
|Are they fixed??|
I decided to take actions, my first idea was to darn the hole, but a closer look at the hole showed that the damage was just too much for darning, I would have to darn the whole heel flap, my mom kept saying "throw them away, they already went past their useful lifetime". At the end I came to the conclusion that it'd be better to frog the whole thing and probably start over...
|Thats a great idea!|
Now, let me tell you, frogging something that has been knitted for at least 4 months, and washed a few times its NOT an easy task, the yarn was slightly felted in some points, but I kept at it... While I pulled the yarn away, and the stitches unraveled, strange thought flew through my head, in no particular order:
- This is taking forever, I need to pee
- I spent probably two weeks working on this... what a pity...
- I feel so sad
- I really need to pee
- I hate you washer goblins
- I need to un-kink this thing
- Will it bleed when I wash it?
- Will I have the courage to reknit this?
- Maybe the yarn didn't wanted to be socks?
- This reminds me of those monks that spent months doing paintings with colored sand, and the sweep it all away..I feel so zen...
- So, what now? a shawlette?
- It'll probably look cool as a citron
- Or maybe some monkeys?
- Fuck it, I'm gonna pee
Even though it pained me to no end to frog the socks, I felt strangely free, lighter, better, once I was done... After all, life goes on, its just yarn, you love it, knit it, frog it and knit it again...
Its just yarn...
and the possibilities are endless right?