The Mother of All Knots

So how did you spend last night?

I had the rare Tuesday evening without a screening, so I planned to take advantage of the free time and knit a lot. I thought that if I put my mind to it, I might be able to finish my third scarf. Sure, it was probably a stretch to think I could knit half of the project in one night, but it gave me a goal.

My knitting was going along smoothly, and I felt energized to stay up late. Could I really knit half a scarf in one night? I doubt it, but who knows what I might have done if I hadn't been stubborn and done something that seemed pretty dumb in the heat of the moment and really stupid this morning.

Previously on Knitting Confidential I mentioned that Kristin got me started on this scarf by having the yarn come from the middle of the skeins. That had been working great. I ran into a small tangle but got it straightened out without incident. Last night I encountered another knotted mass, but I wasn't concerned. Periodically I pulled some yarn out of it to give me more to knit. This was fine for a short time, but it got to the point where I needed to untangle the clump.

What I didn't realize then was that I had met The Mother of All Knots. It wasn't a bad situation; it was unwinnable. Mildly annoyed at the inconvenience of having my progress interrupted, I tugged and picked at the yarn. A little would come undone, but for all I know, with as much yarn as was bound up in this, I may have been making it worse.

There are times when you should know when to cut your losses--literally, in this case--and move on. If I knew then what I know now... After an hour of attempting to undo the knots, I should have given up and used the scissors to solve the problem. Unfortunately, the longer it took to undo them, the more determined I was that my effort wouldn't be in vain.

It took a long time to get to the core knot, and it didn't seem like it wanted to budge. Great, I have the Gordian knot in my yarn, or at least one of those that seems to be part of a challenge on Survivor every season. At one point I counted seven strands coming out of this tight little ball. A couple times I thought I might have it solved, but nope, there would be none of that. I was able to pull it apart into a central circle, but there were at least four tight knots ringing it.

I hadn't wanted to cut the yarn because I didn't know how much would be lost. The yarn was going every which way but loose, and I hated to chop off a bunch if it wasn't necessary. Like it or not, there was no way I was going to undo it. After two incredibly foolish hours of pulling and prodding at the knot, I took the scissors and cut the yarn. I'd listened to at least half of The Cure's Greatest Hits and all of The Decemberists' The Crane Wife on my iPod, and all I had to show for it was six feet or so of severed yarn.

Needless to say, I did not finish the scarf.

At the end of my last post I hinted that I recalled some knitting history in my family. My paternal grandmother, who I knew very well, was a quilter--she may have done some needlepoint too--but I don't think she knitted. I think my maternal grandmother might have knitted. She died when I was in elementary school--second grade, perhaps--so my recollection isn't the best. Yet memories come to us in the strangest ways.

Sunday at church the sermon was drawn from the book of Ruth. That doesn't have anything to do with anything, except that my grandma's name was Ruth. With my focus on knitting, my brain must have decided to do a Boolean search for "knitting" and "Ruth". Before long it occurred to me that she made the Christmas stockings that have been hung at home for as long as I can remember. They're definitely knitted. She made teddy bears for me and my brothers, so I know she sewed. While logic doesn't follow that those who sew also knit, I'm pretty confident that she knitted those stockings. I'd ask my mom, but since I'm trying to keep my knitting a secret, how does that question come up in the course of conversation?

There's no point to this story other than it was nice to be reminded of her. I wish that this was something we could have been able to share. I imagine both of my grandmas would have been surprised and pleased that I've become a knitter. So there's a heartwarming tidbit to offset that business with the knot.

Next...if all goes well, my third FO.