I'm frogging the sleeve of the Hopsmere Cardigan again. A photo of the process marking where I'm ripping back to. My hand is shown for size reference.

Frogging Again: The Never-Ending Sleeve

This sleeve is driving me bonkers. Usually by the time I reach the sleeve of a sweater project, I feel like the bulk of the work is done and I’m coasting toward completion. Not this time. Once again, I’m going to end up frogging a bunch of my work. Almost 10 inches of work – hours of time – needs to be undone.

The Frustration of Frogging

By far, this is the most frustrating and disheartening part of writing patterns. Sure, the math can be annoying at times, but this is so much harder. At times like these, it’s tempting to find a way to ignore the issue to save the time and effort already spent. However, I know that the end result will be noticeably better if I remedy this one. I don’t want to replicate this issue on the other sleeve, but the sleeves need to match. I definitely don’t want to include it in the final published pattern either, nor have to make another whole sweater to revise the pattern draft.

If you ever see a designer list their published pattern for what seems to be an outrageous price, this is probably why. Their hair is likely still growing back after ripping it out by the handful during the pattern-writing process. They’re charging for emotional damages.

I will be frogging this sleeve and trying again because the decrease isn't even down the length of it. This is the most frustrating part of pattern writing.

Better End Results

The decrease is the part that I’m struggling to get correct. I’m trying to make sure it happens evenly down the length of the sleeve, but also need to consider spacing of the ribbing and cabling. It’s a bit of a balancing act.

My first attempt decreased too suddenly. This second attempt was too gradual. I would end up with either an extremely long sleeve, or too wide a wrist cuff. I’m hoping that I’ve pinpointed the sweet spot in the middle for my third attempt. As they say, third time’s the charm. I’m at least hoping that’s the case, because I do not enjoy frogging. I don’t want to have to do it again. At the very least, I really don’t want to do it another time for the same issue.

Frogging is Better Than Fizzling

There are worse things that can happen to a project than Frogging. A completed project that doesn’t fit in a comfortable nor attractive way might sit in the back of someone closet or dresser forever. It could end up in a landfill if it isn’t rescued through the donation stream.

There are also projects that never get finished at all. Designers lose heart and the motivation fizzles out. I think most of us know that feeling of an eternally unfinished work “in progress.” They take up yarn, time, energy, and then space indefinitely. Every time you see them, there’s a small pang of guilt or disappointment in yourself. It’s like they taunt you from whatever drawer or bin (or pile) you’ve stashed them in.

A gray knit sweater bunched up in a pile, several different types of stitches showing. It's one of my many uncompleted projects. I've frogged its hood a few times now and still intend to finish... at some point.

Go on, ask me how I know.

Powering Through

Once I’ve come to terms with the fact that I need to frog, it becomes much easier to move forward. A few years ago, I finally learned the technique of threading a needle through the existing stitches that’s shown in the cover image. Before learning that, I used to have to rip back entire panels, rip back and hope really hard I didn’t drop any stitches, or undo one stitch at a time until I reached the mistake or alteration point.

It’s still annoying for sure, but I can do it. After that, the stubbornness takes over and I’m pressing onward again. I know that I can make this sweater. I’m going to. Even when no one is doubting me, there’s something in me that feels the need to prove it.

Here goes.


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