I was knitting on the shawl. That same shawl that I've been knitting on for five long, interminable years.
I was knitting away, determined to finally get the stupid thing finished when I dropped a stitch. Now, normal stockinette stitching I can fix something like that pretty easily, but this is lace. Not easy lace, either. This is the kind of lace that will make you curse it's existence and all who sail in her.
I tried to fix it. I really did. But I ended up doing more harm than good. I thought the better part of valor would be to just rip back to the lifeline and start from there. To my horror, in so ripping, I discovered that my lifeline had come untied and had pulled out of half of the round.
Noooooooo!!! I thought briefly about ripping the entire shawl out and being done with it, but quickly decided against that. I'd put too much time, effort, tears, and curse words into this bit of lacy torment to give up now.
Fortunately, somewhere in the midst of this self inflicted torture I call lace knitting, I'd developed the habit of leaving two lifelines in place. So, I had to rip back a bit further than I'd intended, but at least I didn't have to start over from the beginning. I've finally got my stitches all picked back up and am soldiering on
more determined than ever to get this blinking thing finished. And when I do, I'm going to declare it a national holiday.
Then, I'll pick up the next half finished lace shawl, and we'll start the whole process all over again.
You can fill out the commitment papers now.