yesterday, which probably speaks volumes about my personality.
I started the scarf in the closest to red, most manly shade I had: Plymouth Happy Feet in a lovely autumn colorway. I got the first 12 inches knitted in a really nice rib pattern (something corrugated that has to do with Arnold — you can find out all kinds of references to the pattern and see all sorts of samples on the Red Scarf Emergency thread in the #1 Knitspot Fan forum on Ravelry).
To me, this was perfect. Attractive colors, nice lightweight feel because of the fingering weight yarn. Squooshy pattern. Then I got a notion to go to the Red Flag Scarf page and read the requirements. Double fingering it said. DK. Worsted. Panic. Nothing about fingering.
I raced to the ravelry site, posted panic messages, totally misinterpreted other messages, pulled the scarf off the needles, tossed the stash, started another one, panicked that the new one would be an inappropriate yarn choice because it was not superwash, frantically knit so much last night on the second scarf my little finger hurts (I have no idea why — it’s not like I actually use it to knit), worried that the pattern on the second scarf was ugly because I added some seed stitch borders because the ribbing pattern alone felt too fat to me in the Cascade yarn, and on and on and on and on. I had this feeling that I should just frog the damn Cascade scarf and frog the Happy Feet scarf and pretend this never happened. It was completely and totally nerve racking.
This is why I primarily knit for me. I have this deep-seated fear that nothing I knit is ever good enough or right enough or pretty enough or whatever enough for someone else. Even if it is. Even if it’s really just fine. (You may recall that the RNK did his best to reinforce my fears with the Hamefarin sweater.)
OK, I may be exaggerating a wee bit here. I really like the way that one pair of socks I knit when we were on vacation in northern California turned out. And the pair of socks I made for my mom last year for her Christmas present were pretty nice too. So I have liked a couple of things I’ve knit, one of them even a pressie.
Setting those two projects aside, here’s where the deep psychological analysis could start. But let’s not go there. Face it. I’m just a nervous little freak inside and that makes me a lot like Opal in that regard and it’s just good that I cope as well as I do. That’s why I knit. Knitting calms me down in the evenings and sets me up for a good night’s sleep so I can work the next day. I knit the way I need to knit so that I can stay nice and calm. One project at a time. No pressure. It’s just for me. No worries about what anyone else will think. No deadlines.
And suddenly, I have not one, not two, but three projects going at once. Two of which must be finished by December 15. I am very nervous about this.
This morning. I got a calming message from Anne Hanson that the first scarf should be back on the needles. Now it is. Fingering is OK, especially in this Arnold Schwarzenegger-inspired ribbing. Add a bit of another color as a stripe if it’s too short. No big deal. Sally forth. Non-superwash yarn is OK too. Who washes scarfs anyway? Unless you puke on them. That’s what Norma advised.
Then Norma posted a message that the deadline isn’t all THAT hard and fast. Just do your best and mail it off as close to that date as you can. And it occurred to me that even though I “should” make finishing the second scarf, the Cascade 220 one, a priority because it is more in keeping with the project requirements, I don’t have to do that. I can keep my own orderly knitter progression in my head and knit the sequence that makes me feel best.
And I wonder why Opal and I get along so well. Peas in a pod.
Except for how we look. She’s just so much cuter than me!