I hate frogging. It feels like admitting defeat. In a large project, a row or two may have taken over an hour, and in seconds, it can fall apart in your hands. Some of the more experienced women I knit with can do it quickly. I imagine that takes some of the sting out, but when I'm alone, passing each stitch carefully back onto the wrong needle, the loss of time and productivity makes me just want to set the whole thing on fire and start over!
I almost never frog. I'd rather accept a mistake in the finished project and just call it "artistic license" or "rustic," but I've spent some time working on an intricate Christmas stocking for my husband. When it's done, it will be a true work of art, something I hope will become an enduring image in the background of holiday pictures. Many somedays from now, I'll make one for myself and our future children, too, each one unique, but connected by the same colors and themes. Simply put, there is no room for mistakes here.
So today, I spent two hours carefully unraveling fifteen rows of his stocking, not because I made a mistake, not due to an error in the pattern, but because I just wasn't satisfied with my color choices. It could be better, should be better. At this rate, maybe it'll be done by Christmas. If not, there's always next year. This is a labor of love. Unlike anything else I've made before, it's meant to be kept and cherished, so while I work on accepting mistakes in other areas of my life, just this once, perfection is the goal. Just this once, frogging is necessary and worth it.
I think about this with reading. I hate abandoning a book, even if it's for a good reason or I don't like it or I have something better to read. I can sympathize with you about the act of abandoning a project that you have put in time and effort.
ReplyDeleteI hate frogging, but seem to have done a lot lately - in fact, I wrote two posts about frogging a pair of socks this month! I am test knitting a sweater for the first time and frogged part of the short row shaping on the back. If it had just been for me, I'd have fudged and made adjustments. Because I need to report out my results, I tore it back to the collar and restarted. Fortunately, I got it right the second time and had the right number of stitches when I finished the raglan sleeve shaping. Frogging is frustrating in the moment, but, in the long-term, I think you will be happy you did it, especially because it is meant to be something that will be cherished.
ReplyDeleteI had no idea....thanks for explaining the term and teaching me about a craft I know nothing about. Thanks for sharing just why you felt the need to frog. I found comfort in knowing about your task devoted to quality/perfection especially when everything else in the world seems to be ever changing and quickly made not to last.
ReplyDeleteI hadn't heard of that term, but it seems like a kinder way of of talking about deconstructing, demolishing, or destroying something you've labored over. So many things in life would be better addressed with frogging, but it is hard to 'admit defeat' and regroup sometimes. Thanks for a though provoking post!
ReplyDeleteWhat a special, beautiful project! I love your vision of it being in the background of holiday pictures. I quilted stockings for my kids, and they still hang proudly on our fireplace. (And they are 22 and 26!)
ReplyDeleteFrogging...I had never heard that term. As a crocheter, I completely understand your frustration! Your stocking will be beautiful. You should post pictures on your blog when you finish.
ReplyDeleteI really enjoyed your slice and learning this term. I understand the desire to have perfection in at least something.
ReplyDeleteFrogging in my houseful of boys refers to hunting frogs with a gig or small gun. The season is during the summer and just one of the adventures the boys look forward to with their dad.