I needed accomplishment. I needed to finish something. And so I pulled it out and tried again, almost in spite of myself.

About two years ago, I started knitting a shawl out of hand-dyed raspberry ice (scroll down) laceweight silk, 100g 1100 yards–fine, slippery stuff and on size 4 needles. I’d been eyeing it for ages at Purlescence and at last it was mine.

But. I found it hard to see the stitches. I found it hard to hold onto the stitches. I found it easy to poke a stitch wrong blindly and find myself suddenly looking at two or three of them running down down down, (well not really that far, it just felt like it), wondering how on earth I managed to pull off that little stunt–I’m supposed to be good at this. It humbled me.

The other problem was, I found myself wishing I had used a different lace pattern here, or up here. But I was too into it to rip it–it was not particularly fun knitting and I didn’t want to have to do it twice.

I made another stab at it about a year ago. It’s shimmery and soft and beautiful, and it begged to be finished. I even got new eyeglasses.

It got set aside again.

I had a doctor’s appointment today. I knew that taking something that was that slippery and droppable with 457 stitches for waiting-room knitting was nuts. But I grabbed that ziploc out of its banishment anyway, and to my surprise the nurse exclaimed over it and then started reminiscing warmly over what I’d been working on the last time she’d seen me; it was a blanket, right?

(Darned if I remember, but I smiled in thanks.)

Yes, I did have to repair some stitches from my row being interrupted when she called me in. But she was so excited over it that how could I not be too?

I’m finally into the (just decided on) edging and I can count the rows to go. It’s going to be glorious in real actual life, it’s going to be done!

Suddenly the knitting isn’t boring anymore. Suddenly it’s hard to put down. That one compliment made all the difference–I’m so glad I took it along.

I can’t wait!