Guided By Wire

Apparently I was on the right track with poking the needles from the wrong side through the right side and back, although I didn't know it. I was under the impression that the needle shaft wouldn't be seen at all on the right side. Wrong. (Don't ask how I expected the shaft would fit between the right and wrong side surfaces.) And no, I didn't felt it too much. The roll was never going to cover the whole needle.

I also realize that if I do cut the FO, I need to cut all the way through it. I don't know if I have the heart to do that. It was hard enough puncturing the holder with the US 11s and feeling as though I was ruining my work.

The good news is that I know what I'm doing, sort of. I suppose I just need to have more confidence in myself.

On that note, Donna posted something on her blog yesterday that floored me. I can totally relate to the sentiment expressed in her March 30 entry:

"I've always wanted to be an adult. Even as a child I enjoyed adult company more than that of my peers. I still don't feel like an adult, though -- at airports, I wait to be discovered and hustled to the office, an unaccompanied minor who got loose. I'm nervous about how to pay for taxis or order drinks. I wonder if I'll ever feel grown up."

I could have written this, so it rattles me some to read someone else saying it. As a kid I was always "mature for my age". I think anyone looking at me would I assume I have it together. Do I? I feel less and less like that's the case despite appearances.

I get what she's saying here, and I'm sure it has a lot to do with why I often lack the confidence in my own abilities. It doesn't stop me from soldiering on, at least in some areas, but it can undermine my satisfaction with what I've done. At another place in the entry she mentions feeling like an impostor. Me too, me too. There are times I feel like a fraud waiting to be found out even though there's nothing to uncover...I don't think. (Lest I sound like a shambles, let me add that I'm comfortable with who I am, although that doesn't mean I'm happy with everything.)

I was thinking about this today while shopping for some yarn and needles at JoAnn's. For whatever reason I don't feel like I'm trespassing any longer. I have every right to be there. I know what I'm looking for and know where to find it as long as it's in the yarn section. (I wander aimlessly in the rest of the store.) I'm in my sixth month as a knitter, and it feels like I've found something that's a core part of my being. Maybe that makes sense, maybe it doesn't.

As proof of my knitter DNA, I submit that I currently have three projects on the needles. The baby blanket is still on the circs awaiting my attention. I began a baby bib on bamboo needles because I haven't knit with bamboo except for my practice piece. Since I couldn't find any patterns I liked for a cat mat, I'm fiddling around with my own design based on the meager information given here (check 11/19/05). I experimented with knitting a row using the English method. (For unknown reasons I use the continental method despite being taught the English method.) It was really awkward, so I went back to the familiar way. I want to learn to knit by wrapping with my right hand, but I'm better off saving such attempts for another practice piece.