It took me three days to work up the courage to frog silk. Beautiful, shimmery, slippery silk–but that edging did not please me. I dampened the stitches around the needles, let it settle and dry, and then–left it there. Tried to drag myself back to taking the risk I knew I had to take. Didn’t want to. Considered tinking thousands upon thousands of stitches–reeeally didn’t want to.
This morning it was a relief to simply feel, okay, I was ready now. I laid it all out on the floor and took the needles out and hoped. Walked on my knees around the circle, carefully undoing stitch after stitch in row after row and then four more rows. Yes I dropped three stitches, yes, two of them ran. Two were yarnovers, no biggy. I caught them and I fixed them.
And at about 350 stitches into it, realized, no. I abandoned it again for most of the day.
This would not do. Tinked back. Knitted it up again with changes to the pattern and finally finally got it right.
It was imperative. You just don’t waste silk nor one’s skills nor pride on doing it halfway.
ps. Happy Father’s Day, Dad and Dad Hyde and Richard and Richard-the-younger!