Monday was darning day. A rather rare occurrence, but in the general
theme of things it came following mending week, where buttons were popping
hither and thither and all manner of things were coming undone.
I really can’t see the
stitches here, it is not just the photo, and I can’t really see the
pattern. Size 0 double points
shown. Some knitting was required but
the stitches were coming undone in many directions. Despite the fact that this sweater is fairly
new, the little yarn sample that must have come with it had gone missing
although I found yarn pieces from sweaters that left my life decades ago. Perhaps some reorganization is required in
the buttons and threads box.
Then Tabasco caught herself in the cushy knitted blanket, creating
a hole:
Luckily, although knitting
was also required here (2 rows) the needles and stitches were much bigger:
You can see the darning
needle as I prepare to Kitchener these off the needles. I really do like grafting, which is perhaps
why I don’t mind darning too much. The
discovery of the Kitchener stitch was one of the defining moments of my
education, opening worlds of doors, a veritable “aha” moment when I could see
possibilities opening up before me. To
prove what a total nerd I am, the other such moment in my education came when I
took Organic Chemistry, another life-altering experience. Since I took it in an intensive form that
condensed the entire year into one-semester, it was roughly 3 months of
euphoria: hard work, but very happy work. That course was part of the “pre-med eliminations” and although I made
the cut academically, I discovered that I was temperamentally not cut out for
pre-med. I hated the intensity and
competition, I lacked the necessary drive.
Back to darning; there’s
still more.
Despite having just stated
how much I love grafting, I obviously messed this up on the first sock. Of course, over the last months these socks
have been in constant rotation, pretty much going from wash to feet and back
again, so the problem might have been just a wear spot. Picking up a narrow row of dropped stitches
on size 0 needles was no picnic and took me close to an hour. None of my crochet hooks was small
enough. I do have two tambour bead hooks,
the larger one would have worked, but it has gone missing and the small one was
much too small.
When I finished the repair, I
also shored up the grafted seam, where I saw a couple of other weak spots. When I originally finished the sock I tried a
technique that billed itself as simplified grafting, which I found less easy
and less effective than the real thing. I don’t know why I bothered.
Which leads me to the final darn, my darning Waterloo:
This is the back neckline of
a silk and Lycra turtleneck I got for Christmas. I was told it was a pretty inexpensive
turtleneck, and the problem might be in the manufacturing, but I doubt it. I have had this problem before on turtlenecks. The problem is caused by my exceedingly fat
head, 23 5/8 inches around. The neck on
which this behemoth sits is not proportional, being slightly smaller than
average. Herein lies the problem: a
turtleneck that actually hugs the neck strains at the width of the head. Popping of stitches often follows.