It's all about discipline

Knitting is something I love, so naturally I want to just dive into it with utter and complete abandon. While this may be extremely satisfying on some basic, Freudian level, it's - well - bad. My Ravelry queue, pattern library, and stash are all testaments to how I can go way, WAY too far when I don't reign in my enthusiasm.

Thankfully, I respond well to structure. I'm usually at my best when my day is planned out and my activities and goals are organized and regimented (in my head, anyway). That's not to say that I'm incapable of being impulsive (see reference to queue, library and stash above), but I start to feel jittery if I don't have a "plan". I feel like I'm not actually making any progress.

In the case of the dreaded Citrus Mittens, that'd be because I am - literally - making no progress. Mostly 'cause I haven't been working on them.

I have a real love/hate relationship with these mittens. I coveted them, drooled over them, waited an eternity to buy the perfect yarn for them... These were going to be MY mittens. It was going to be awesome.

Then the first mitten turned out to be the size of an oven-mitt (there's only one size, if I'd had half a brain I would have seen that they were going to be too big). Heartbroken, I set them aside for a while. I couldn't even look at them. The pain was too fresh, too deep, and I needed time to heal.

Earlier this Fall I cast on for the second mitten. They were the perfect size for my Dad, who declared they "weren't girly at all" and said he'd LOVE to have them. I thought the mitten and I had made peace, or at least reached some kind of understanding. But right away little problems kept popping up. I couldn't find the dpn's I'd used for the first mitten anymore... I started working on the wrong chart... I lost my place and had to rip back 20 rows of intarsia (fun!)... my cat had chewed through both strands of working yarn.

What was once going to be a wondrous moment of pure knitterly joy has turned into a giant bowl or arse, and I need to come to terms with my feelings.

I have HAD it with these mittens! I need them to be DONE! We're CLEARLY not meant to coexist, and they need to go somewhere they'll be looked at with love and admiration, and not seething hatred ('cause they're really quite lovely).

Last night, I reluctantly set aside Castlegar and pulled out the mitten. I looked at it a good long while, pondering my plan.

With a heart-felt "Ptoooey!", I spit-spliced the yarn back onto that fracking mitten and by God and sunny Jesus, I will FINISH them by this weekend if it KILLS me!

Knitting. It's not all fun and games.