Picture the scene: Friday night, Idoru has the flat to herself. A bottle of wine, a shrug-a-long to begin and umpteen Smallville DVDs. Sounds like the perfect combination right? Wrong. I cast on OK, counted the number of stitches and everything was fine. Then I opened the wine. I carried on drinking and knitting and watching Smallville into the night. Then hit the hay. Next morning, sober and tired, I noticed the knitting looked a bit, well, holey. I counted the stitches. I had too many. I started unpicking it, carefully because mohair appears to be the stickiest of sticky yarns.
I found all kinds of mistakes. Dropped stitches, missed stitches, yarn wrapped round the needle, same stitch knitted twice. So I went from 16 rows down to about half that. I thought I'd caught all the mistakes so I started off again. It didn't take long to realise that things weren't quite right. So I ripped the whole lot back and, downhearted, put the thing down. This was last weekend.
But I'm not one for giving up easily so I soon picked up the needles and cast on again. This time counting the number of stitches several times, just to be sure. It's now Thursday, and I've only just got back to 16 rows. But this time at least it all looks pretty even and I've still got 101 stitches. I know because I count them at regular intervals.
At this rate, it's going to take till next Christmas to finish the damn thing. But be assured, I will finish it. Oh yes I will.
The yarn is quite gorgeous though, and the colour as pretty as the sea:
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