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. Article kindly provided by