As a trimester student, I had a full month off from college during December with little to do and no friends home to hang out with. So, crafter that I am, I bought a stock of yarn and a pattern that looked appealing and set to work. About three-fourths of the way done with my long cable and lace knit jumper, I took a good look at it and was mortified to see that there was something decidedly wrong with it.
Reviewing the pattern again several times, first in confusion and then disbelief, I realized I'd made a vital mistake in treating one side of the jumper as the whole jumper, making the piece half of the intended width. Obviously that wouldn't do, so I took a good 15 minutes to unravel more than 20 hours of hard work and sore fingers, starting from scratch, in tears and clouds of hopelessness. On the bright side, I knew the pattern well enough to work faster the second time around - though that was counter balanced by knitting twice as much material as before – and I had plenty of movies to watch and books to listen to. I finally finished the jumper on Christmas day, triumphantly knitting the neck and strap borders on Christmas morning, in time for the annual family get together. I was rewarded with much praise for my work, but moreover much pride for my success. I think I hardly need to say why this homemade fashion piece is so important to me.
Not only did I slave over it for hours not only is it visually attractive not only is it a difficult pattern and a recommendation to my knitting ability – it was also a challenge to my patience that I was able to overcome. While there are much more expensive and lovely items in my closet, this is rich in time and effort and beautiful in memory and victory.