Some things are just cursed

The one thing Bradly wanted me to make him, above all others, was the Luchadore ski mask from Son of Stitch 'n' Bitch. Although it had intarsia, which I hate, it would also be practical, given his early morning walk to the bus stop. It would keep him nose warm. So when I got more yarn, I sent about making it.

I consider myself a competent knitter. While I haven't designed anything either large or complicated (and mostly my designs are more modifications to existing patterns), if I have a pattern to follow, there will be a finished product at the end of it. But this one... apparently I forgot how to count. Which I didn't notice until I was halfway up the face, ready to start the colorwork. I had to rip.

An aside here: When I first noticed, I was very upset that I had made such a "beginner mistake." Then I thought about it. Miscounting your stitches, I don't think, is not a beginner mistake. When you're a beginning knitter, you're also a paranoid knitter. You use stitch markers, you count everything four times, then knit a bit and count the stitches again. This was an overconfident, compentent knitter mistake. One from a girl convinced that she knows what she's doing.

Anyway, I reknit every thing (using stitch markers to count this time, asking Bradly to make sure I had counted properly), and continued knitting. At the decreases, I realized I had dropped a stitch about ten rows back. I laddered it up, forcing a new stitch into the space between two perfectly happy stitches, and finished. Then there were ends to weave in... so many ends. Which, while irritating, were not a product of the curse, but the intarsia. Nevertheless, the mask was finished, in time for him to wear it to work on Monday. He reported it to be very warm, and cool, then asked if I had seen where he put it.

I had not. He had left it in the cab. It's lost. Normally I'd be mad, but it's just the curse. I'll make him anouther one soon... once the sting has worn off and the universe had rebalanced itself.