Now, let's not start out assuming that casting on 8 stitches is an easy or simple thing. Because that was the first thing I did today, and that assumption cost me 3 hours. You read it right, 8 stitches, 3 freaking hours. Of my life. That I cannot get back. Yep. And truthfully, I am still not completely happy with it, not by a long shot, but me and this project have reached an agreement. I will be happy with what I have for now, and it will not look like total shite. That's the deal.
The internet is truly a wonderful thing. But, as many of you know, it can be really dangerous as well. I now have a computer in the knitting room, which is like unto the blasting cap being united with the dynamite insofar as the internet danger thing is concerned. So I began my foray into the wild world of casting on 8 stitches in the round by consulting the internet.
Do you have any idea what a powder keg of an issue a single stinking cast on can be? Maybe you do, and you are all at home smugly shaking your heads at me already, but I have to admit I was shocked at the information I found. No less than three tutorials, with pictures, countless blog posts and list discussions. Entire discussions. 8 freaking stitches. Frikkin frakkin frik!
So I decided to take what at the time really did seem to be the sanest route and tried the most logical looking cast on. Obviously, it works, because someone I know has used it. And I believe them when they say they have. They have no reason to lie to me. At this point, however, I think the best way they can assure me beyond any doubt that they can execute this particular cast on is to come on over and do it for me, because I couldn't manage the frelling thing. So I took a short break and petted hamsters, put some more music on my ipod and went to plan B.
Naturally, for me at least, I choose the most sensible and logical thing to try as my personal plan A. It follows, then (at least in my universe) that plan B jumps to the least logical, most ridiculous thing. I know that this usually sets me up for more frustration and hamster petting, I know. I know the better option would be to try the next level down the list, not jump to the bottom, but that's just how I roll. I think it is a genetic selection thing for beer. Because after the crazy stuff blows up in my face, the hamster petting only keeps working to calm me if it is accompanied by beer.
Anyway, now I am doing this weird knit a square to make it round to use it as a provisional cast on thingie and failing miserably, but I am getting totally stoked about making it work. This is probably when I should have stopped for a beer, but I didn't. Five times I failed to do this right, but me and this cast on got this relationship thing building. You know, like Dr. Frankenstein and his monster, and I knew I would be able to make these 8 stitches happen. And time, she went poof.
To make a 3 hour long story short, I finally did it, the most convoluted and bizarre way, a strange amalgamation of the ridiculously complex instructions and my own brain (which I have put back in the jar now so no one gets hurt). And you know what? It's kinda, well, meh. But it doesn't totally suck, so the deal holds. As long as it continues to not totally suck I have agreed not to do such things to it and the yarn that would render them eternally unuseable and possibly bring the authorities down on me. So there. And on to knitting!
Did I mention this is a German chart? In German symbols? With blank mystery spaces in the chart to fool you into thinking you should knit where (unless you were a German chart knitter type person and know better) physics will not allow? Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!
So after a total of 5 (five) hours, I would like to present, at row 18 with 112 stitches, um,
My sea urchin. I love knitting!
