Permission to Frog

Knitters are funny.  We keep working on something, long after it has told us that it isn't working.  We plug away on a sweater for an adult that would be tight on a toddler.  We slog forward on socks that are big enough to suit an elephant.  Hideous color combinations, combative yarn/pattern combinations, knitters will ignore the obvious forever.  We hate the idea of unraveling stitches that we worked so hard to ravel, we continue onward, knowing in the deepest corner of our heart that it isn't working.

Since the move, I have been unpacking and viewing parts of my stash and WIP's that haven't seen daylight in some time.  I have given myself permission to frog at will.  If I don't like the yarn anymore, frog it.  If I don't like the pattern anymore, frog it.  If I am just bored with it, frog it.

Today, in a corner of my office, I found a half-finished child sock for charity.  I tried working on it a little today, but I was hating the colors of the yarn, the feel of the yarn, the tininess of the needles.  I wasn't even sure what I was going to do with the socks after I finished them.  The yarn store that used to accept charity woolies to ship to an orphanage in Russia has now closed.  After two rows, I decided to frog.

What freedom!  I still don't know what to do with that ugly yarn.  I may stick it in the garage sale stack, or just throw it into my "charity stash" and think of something else to make with it.  For now, it is one less work in progress.

I found three others partially finished projects stuck in that same corner, but I still like them.

Today, it is all about letting go.