The sad tale of the Peacock scarf goes on and on. I had everything re-knitted and ready for my second try at grafting. I used every stitch marker I could find to make sure I didn't have the same issue with the stitch count.
I was deliriously happy to end up with an even amount of stitches. Every one was accounted for.
Then I noticed the ugly ridge. My tension must have been too tight. It looked terrible so I ripped it all out AGAIN.
All those live stitches made me queasy. Could I be lucky enough to get them all back on the needles twice?
I was but I gave up on the grafting and instead just knit the pattern upside down. It didn't work. The stitches did not match the other end in gauge so I ripped AGAIN. I went down 2 needle sizes and knit it all AGAIN.
The little points that are supposed to be there didn't work on the side I cheated so I couldn't pin them out on the other side either. Bugger. Bugger. Bugger. Did I mention it was supposed to be a gift? On Saturday? I am sick about it. I am going to bed. It's 1 am and I don't want to think about this anymore. Not tonight anyway.
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