So there I was, knitting along on Mystery Stole 4, when I dropped a stitch. I didn’t know that I’d dropped it; I just kept merrily cruising along, counting under my breath and placing beads, happy as could be.
Then, when I shifted my work along my right needle to give myself some more room, the dropped stitch ran down 6 rows of knitting, right along a column of stitches that has a bead every other row.
I heard the beads plink down onto the table, and I kid you not, my heart really did skip a beat. Dropped stitch, dropped beads… I got kind of dizzy.
And then something happened which I didn’t expect. I got very calm. I picked the dropped beads with my 1 mm crochet hook, positioned my work so that the dropped stitch was between my needles, and very carefully hooked the stitch back up, putting the beads back where they belonged.
It was amazing; I felt as though I had finished my first marathon, or written “The End” after 1000 pages.
It seems like such a small thing, a skill that every knitter should have, but I’d never done it quite like that before. No hissing and cursing, just a calm marshaling of tools and knowledge.
Ever since then, it’s gotten easier for me. I finally understand what lace knitters are talking about when they tell me to read my knitting. I can see the pattern emerging and intuit where it’s heading. The yarn doesn’t seem so terrifyingly thin and fragile; the beads don’t seem to be waiting to slide off the floss.
All of a sudden, I don’t feel so guilty about all the lace-weight in my stash. I feel like I’ll be able to make things with it that I’ll be proud of.
And all because I dropped a stitch.
So, have you had moments of fear and revelation with your knitting? I’d love to hear about them!