If only you believed like I believe
A little less than halfway through the Clapotis, and the dropped stitches have me in their glamour. It takes me an hour or more to knit the pattern around to another dropped stitch, and every time I pick it up I want to get there just one more time.
I was frankly getting sick of the puddling, pooling mess of this colorway as I worked my way up the big stockingette triangle toward the straight section. It looked like a beginner’s idea of charming country crafts, screaming “homemade” in the worst way — as in “nobody would want to buy this.”
But I persevered because I had faith that the ladders would make the difference. They would break up the random smudges of color and give them openness, air, mystery.
And just look at the difference between the right side and the left side of the photo above. My trust in the magic of the dropped stitch was not misplaced.
I’m a bit under halfway done, and my desire to knit it at every waking moment has taken its toll. My Jaywalkers are so close to the toes — and to being done. If I can get them on my feet, my non-Clapotis knitting will be long-suffering Diamante, which will no doubt provide enough incentive to revive my excitement about worsted weights and back-and-forth knitting.
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