Ever feel like the piece you've been working on *forever* has a mind and soul of its own, and that it just HATES you? I mean, I know that needles can feel that way (see this post about Boyd via Neglecting My Kids) but a sweater? Come on.
Today, however, I've been convinced. Bonne Marie wrote about having to frog Spencer after realizing that the cables in the front didn't match. Not only did I read her complete notes prior to casting on last Spring, but I made the same mistake. Duh. The problem is that I had already started the right sleeve by the time I even LOOKED to see if I had committed that error. Oh well, not *that* big a deal, right?
Wrong.
I then read the instructions to "Decrease one stitch at each end of needle every other row 6 times) as "Decrease one stitch at end of needle every other row" and instead of stopping, kept right on knitting, even though it didn't look possible that this sleeve was made to go along with the first. Think Abbott and Costello, folks.
And I thought that I could just match that baby up, block her out and finish her in time for this weekend. Hah.
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