Yesterday I posted about the shawl, in whose pattern I had hit a snag. Now, the book is not only out of print, but in Icelandic. And doesn't seem to have been very widely available when it was available.
In addition to my plea for help in yesterday's post, I also sent desperate, whining, private emails to Sonja and Risa.
Risa is obviously a lace goddess. She finished this shawl from the book in question. Therefore it seemed logical that if I ran into a problem with a simple stockinette stitch instruction that Risa would be able to see through the fog of bad translation or unclear instructions and set things right.
Risa spent a whole bunch of time helping me. And concluded that the pattern is unclear and confusing. Strike one.
Sonja just finished the shawl in question, which you can see here if you scroll down. Sonja, in her wisdom, skipped the tricky part of the pattern instructions. Sonja was able to confirm that the instructions are just as weird in Icelandic as they are in English. No help there, I had kind of been hoping the translation was the issue. Strike two.
Now, here's the cool part. Sonja took a walk to the Icelandic Handicrafts Assocation. And asked them what they thought of the instructions in the book. "They" being the original publisher of the book and all that. I mean, short of getting an email from the person who wrote the book, I have to say I can't think of anything more amazing than being able to have a friend in Iceland help me to deal with a glitch in a pattern in a book I'm struggling with in NY. Especially when I only know her through blogging.
And they concluded that the pattern is unclear and confusing. We'll count that as strike 2.5.
The breakthrough came after Risa's email, wherein she had worked her way through the pattern line by line figuring it out, and had to conclude that it was confusing and screwy.
The personal milestone happened last night. I picked up the shawl and I just fudged it. I'm adding in a single row of the beige when I do the eyelets. It doesn't show, or at least doesn't show in the pictures I took. But its in there, and I'm compensating haphazardly for the pattern's deficiencies. And its working out just fine.
At some point I decided that it was just wool. I could try it; make do and see how it came out and guess what? It worked. I have my little stockinette stitch movie-watching knitting project. Not a big deal? Maybe not to you, but I had put it down and not picked it up again for 24 hours, waiting for advice from around the globe and it took utter despair to get me to the point where I could say: It's just wool.
This has got to be a metaphor for something.