Sarah and I are knitting a crop of baby sweaters — to go with the crop of babies being produced by friends and family — and I cast one on yesterday (casting on a baby sweater is always a bit of a thrill — not as much of a thrill as casting on a baby of course! but it is a celebration of the new little person in our lives and I think about the new parents so much as I knit 🙂

This particular sweater starts with the hood — a combination of ribs and welts — and, unfortunately, I got in a muddle rather early on.  We were watching The Crown on Netflix and I was all wrapped up in British politics and the more intimate politics of the Royal Family — and clearly not paying enough attention to my welts and ribs.  Suddenly, I was knitting on the wrong side I when I should have been knitting on the right side and I was not on the row my row counter indicated I should be on and my welts were oddly sized.  

Since the disfigured welts were only at the beginnings and ends of the rows — the large central section of the hood was perfectly fine, ribbing all as it should be — I was determined to just drop down several rows to the offending stitches and fix them that way.  That way, I would not have to rip out all the rows I had knit that evening.  "Dropping down" literally means dropping the stitches in the column above the each one that needs, in this case, to be converted from a knit to a purl (or vice versa).  It is fiddly and requires careful maneuvering, but it is not difficult (especially if you have had to do this as much as I have!).  And it is preferable to ripping out rows of mostly correct knitting.

The difficulty here was that I was completely lost.  I did not know what row I was on, what rows I had messed up on, where I was supposed to be!  I tried counting rows, but that only got me more confused.  I had not knit enough to establish the pattern — or to get the hang of it — and the written instructions were somewhat vintage and somewhat cryptic.  I was lost.  

So, in desperation, I did what many knitting teachers have told me to do.  I looked at my knitting.  And I found that even tho the pattern of welts was just barely emerging, there was enough for me to see what it should probably look like.  And so I did what always do when I fix a mistake: I adjusted the stitches to make it look the way it is supposed to look.  And so, after dropping down and fiddling with the stitches so that they fit with the pattern around them, poof! I had not only corrected my welts, but, miraculously, I found that I knew where I was!  And the patterning suddenly all made sense!  And I could continue on with a sensible method of keeping track of the rows.

It was suddenly all blazingly clear! I felt brilliant!  I felt blessed!  And so very grateful that I would be able to lie in my bed peacefully that night — instead of gnashing and thrashing over disastrous welts. 

Oh, how pretty they are now!