Foolhardy? I figured the infant in my pelvis wasn't going anywhere anytime soon. I was more or less trapped at home in a heat wave - I sure as hell wasn't going anywhere with labour looming. I (wrongly) assumed that the infant in my pelvis was going to stay put, and be induced in 10 days or so. So I cast on, and I knit like crazy, and I had enough of the stole done that on Saturday, I figured I could finish it by the next Friday. Sweet Pea was born on Sunday . . . thereby ending my mad quest to finish the stole 6 days later. In my defense, I had just finished a lace stole in 6 days, it wasn't completely impossible.
Just yesterday I cast off the stole.
A year and a half. A year and a half! Now, it's not like I worked on it every day - but it was there . . . in the background . . . in that bag on the couch. Over on the table. Beside the chair. It was around. And now it's done.
There is nothing quite as thrilling as casting off a long term project. There is a sense of accomplishment that I just don't really get anywhere else. I was so thrilled about the end of the stole, in fact, that I set out to block it last night.
I got out the blocking mat. I laid the stole out. I stepped back to admire it. I stared in horror at the HOLE in the middle of it!! There is a hole in the middle of my stole!!
It probably isn't as bad as I think it is. It's probably just a few stitches. I almost cried. I almost threw it in the garbage. I almost lit it on fire first.
But I didn't. I got some safety pins, and I caught the live stitches, and I put it on the coffee table, and I'm going to fix it. I hope. I'll need help. I'm taking it to my LYS on the weekend, and I figure if they can't help, or point me in the direction of someone who can . . . well, then I'll throw in the towel.
My stole needs stitches.