Striped Toe Socks

I'm not feeling the love here. What have I done to offend you so? I buy nice yarn, I select beautiful projects, to be a Fearless, but not overreaching Knitter. I select a size based on the body I have, not the one I want. Yet, here I am, three projects over the last few months that make me want to cry. First, my felted bag that you saw fit to punch holes in while I wasn't looking. I accepted your will and sewed up your holes. I carried my bag with pride, on vacation and to Knit Night. Then there was my Lace Leaf hat, in the soft and shiny pink yarn. The lace pattern challenged me, I spent hours counting and checking watching the pattern unfold in it's elegant glory. Only to try it on and realize too late that it swallowed my head like an angry pink monster. Once more I understood I had wronged you in some way. I set the pink monster aside and moved on to the Ballet Camisole. I already had the yarn in mmy stash, Knit Picks Shine Sport. Surely this was a good sign of glorious knitting to come. After some struggle to purchase a size six circular needle I cast on. A struggle I now see was your way of working through your minion at a certain yarn store. I defied your evil intentions and continued knitting, I checked gauge and was spot on. My love for the project was so complete that it was the only thing I brought to knit for an entire week. I never regretted it. I knit happily along while chatting with friends, gazing at the mountains and cheering the Olympians. It wasn't until I returned home that trouble truly began. First, it was a hole that was discovered to be a dropped stitch and unraveling weird loop made by a new ball of yarn. With much gnashing of teeth I fought you and fixed this hole to the best of my abilities, consulting my friends for support and advice. After this disaster I studied my work, a fear beginning to form. It looked, well, huge. I denied this though and continued for a few more days. Then I began to measure and my fears grew. I struggled to try on the cami, while still on the needles, hoping no one would come to the door while I was trapped in my knitting. How could it be so big? How! I checked the gauge again, realizing how long it had been. Vacation had relaxed me far too much. My once spot on stitches were now a stitch and a half too big. Then I begin a Ravelry search that would have been my first move, had I realized how far I have gone from the warmth of your blessing. Ah, I see you have sent the beloved Shine Sport down to curse other knitters before. They too have struggled to make the Ballet Camisole fit and flatter. I feel less alone, but no less cursed.

I return to the land of Frog with a heavy and unsure heart. How can I please such a fickle god who claims to love and only curses?

Your humble, if disheartened knitting servant.


P.S. If you keep this up, I will be forced to worship the more kind gods of crochet.