Peabody illustrates my brainfog. Painfully.

As per plan I frogged the Peabody Sweater back to the ribbing and started to reknit the body on fewer stitches. I had to camp for two days on the couch anyway, what with my structural illness enhanced by my period, so there was time. It took a lot of effort to concentrate but I managed to knit. I placed the decreases in nearly all the right places, made excellent shaping, followed the lace pattern without too many mistakes. Watched Les Stroud taking his body hair out for a walk in snow, deserts and rain forests…

At the end of that I now have knitted up the first skein of the four, I managed to put in 9 hours of concentrated knitting over the past few days. And there’s a glaring mistake.

Nearly all the increases in the lace pattern are made by lifting the strand and knitting through it:

Holey holes, Batman!

Around the leafs there are big holes that should not be there. These holes will show your shirt underneath. Holes I do not particularly love. Holes that can be avoided by my carefully concocted chart that clearly says to knit into the stitch below.

Holes that are the whole reason I didn’t follow the original pattern by Leila Raabe in the first place:

 great pattern! but quite holey.

It’s why I made a chart of my own. With that ridiculous long swatch. And three kinds of increases (YO; lift strand; knit into stitch below) which are clearly indicated. If I had a brain to read with.

I’m so disappointed.

Really, I think I should just follow Raabes pattern and stop trying to be smart when clearly I am brainfogged most of the time. But it feels as a defeat you see. Which is one reason I kept on trucking. On and on and on. Making a swatch as long as my arm. Redoing things. Fixing mistakes. Making another even better chart. Reknitting the body.

But now, now we enter that stage where even I have to admit that this is ridiculous. Throwing good money time/energy after bad is a stupid thing to do. Stupid gets you killed! As does hypothermia. Which is why you should never sweat in cold climates, says my friend Les. Better take of that shirt and let the sweat dry.

Well. I think I’ll have a little cry now, have a little pity party for one -it ís that time of the month after all- and than surrender myself to Leila Raabe’s intelligence. Before I run the change to never want to see this yarn again!

Perhaps one day I’ll admit defeat to this illness. Aknowledge that I am beaten. Resign to the boundaries it gives me (it’s not that much of a bad thing really, everybody has boundaries). The thing is: it involves my brain. It’s my brain function that I can no longer rely on. I have to have checklist upon checklist, monitor my state of mind all the time, meddle with brain chemistry because hormone deficiencies and bad foods make me loose the will to live and that is NOT who I am. And I have to have a back up plan in place all the time in case of severe brain fog, put habits into place to secure my safety. (I’m talking about things like check that the doors are locked, that the stove is off)

Will I ever get around to living another live again? To putting my hand made Inuit sea kayak into the water? To growing a bit of fur and look pondering into the distance?

Les Stroud: funny, not too hairy, handy and a sea kayaker too!

also: he appreciates wool. We like Les.

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