It seems like every time I need to cut a steek, I'm on painkillers. And every time I do it, I swear I never will again. Yet the next time steeking rolls around, there I am with my hand hurting, kinda dizzy, cutting a hole in my knitting, going "I really shouldn't be doing this."
Lately my hand has been bothering me more than usual.
I don't really know why.
So, you know, I'm trying to ignore it and keep on keeping on. Perhaps with the judicious use of a few painkillers prescribed for the purpose. You know. Nothing extreme.
This afternoon, I remained calm, and breathing slowly and deeply, crocheted my steek.
Then, using very small, very sharp scissors, with my hand behind the arm hole, I cut.
(Incidentally, the one time I cut a huge, gaping hole in my knitting by accident, I wasn't drugged. Just cocky. I'm not so cocky any more.)
After that, it was a simple matter of picking up stitches. Sort of. This is the pattern where I pick up stitches in pattern, using both colors.
Then I knit off down the arm, staying in pattern, so that there's no noticeable arm hole seam. (This is the arm hole seam of the first sleeve, which is actually done.)
Very clever, but trickier than I thought.
I got the stitches picked up all right, then chose the wrong spot in the bloody chart to begin 'in pattern', fucked it all up, and had to tear back three or four hours' knitting down to the pick-up row. (On the other hand, this gives me a chance to fix the wrong-colored stitch in the underarm pattern. Whoopee.)
Then I chucked it back in the basket and went to do the Setesdal gauge swatch. (Got the book on Setesdal jerseys. Book review to follow, once I'm done reading it, but it's good.)
I also got the first half of the orange sock yarn plied. (This could be the other source of my hand issue. Other than the cat.) It may be thin enough for socks after all.
Either way, I like the color. (It is merino of my own dyeing, chain-plied.) I'm just not sure when in hell I'll get to it, to knit it up. I keep reminding myself I spin for relaxation, meditation, and hand therapy, and it doesn't matter when I knit it up. But geez. The Pit is overflowing.