We all have our Unicorns, but especially our knitting Unicorns. It’s that almost mythical piece of knitting that you so desperately want to see as a finished object or even just cast on. But much like the creature it’s named after, it’s the project that you’ve never actually seen or touched. But you hope with all your might that it does in fact exist and maybe one day there will be just a hint of real magic in the air, the planets will be in the correct alignment and your knitting mojo will be perfect. And then Voila. Your unicorn will find its way into your hands and onto your needles and eventually create a finished object that you will love and cherish.
This is my unicorn.
The pattern is Staked and the colour is ‘Then Buffy Staked Edward the End.’ This originally came into my possession in the first year of Indigodragonfly: Smart-Ass Knitters/World Domination 1 Skein Club. And I was instantly in love. I love the pattern. I love the yarn. And I love the yarn name. (I mean I am on Team Hellmouth and as I have stated before, vampires do not sparkle. They eat things…….mostly people. Not really synonymous with cute and cuddly. Have you ever seen the original 30 Days of Night? Those vamps wouldn’t even slow down to eat the Cullens. It would just be a light snack for them on the way to the real meal. But clearly, I digress.)
Back to the pattern. I want to make these socks. I want to make them so badly it almost hurts. They rattle around in the knitting portion of my brain stomping about and having the occasional tantrum about still not being on the needles. But here’s the problem. The pattern scares the heck out of me. Just to make it clear, there is nothing in this pattern that I am not already able to do with confidence, expect maybe count correctly all of the time. (Knitting can be very humbling that way.) I am familiar with and use all of the techniques that these socks utilize. There is no reason I would not be able to do these. But, then I look at the charts, (I love knitting from charts by the way), and my brain leaks out of my ears and I start to quiver in fear and I forgot that I know how to do all the techniques in this pattern and it all gets put away until the next time I feel like repeating the whole routine over again. And this is why they are my unicorn.
One day, my friends, I hope to be able to show you these socks. I hope I knit them. I dream that they will look perfect and fit perfectly and I will be able to say these weren’t nearly as hard as I thought they would be, and that you should make them too. But I’m not there yet, and I find that a little disappointing. Which means that these socks will have to remain in the temptation pile just a little bit longer.
This post is part of
whendidibecomeaknitter 