First (real) steeks
You see, I knitted up a lovely Snowflakes and Arrows, with Kim's very helpful advice from the knit-along, and adding my own side-seam-area decreases:
Working some lovely snowflake fair isle, if I do say so myself:
And then, about 14 inches into the center-front opening, I cut two and a half rows of steek, instead of the center purl bumps of steek:
The word panic took on a new meaning last night.
I promptly re-crocheted to re-secure the cut portion, and I think it's going to be okay, but MAN was that stressful. I knit most of this vest in a foreign state, commuting 500+ miles without my husband of 9 months, and sometimes under adverse circumstances (including a lovely bout of stomach flu).
So while the $12ish that I spent on the yarn for this is utterly expendable, quite a lot of who I am as a person is woven into this thing. It contains me panicking when I realized how much more of my time my new job takes vs. the very loose 10-6 my previous lovely and fun but not long-term-challenging job required of me. It contains me realizing that most of what was making me sad was the fact that my husband wasn't waiting for me at (my temporary) home. It contains me realizing that, even though I wouldn't be doing anything even remotely resembling my job title for a good 6 months, the technical writing that I'm doing now is helping to keep afloat a company that pays 100% of my healthcare costs, whose owner says good morning to me every single day, and that gives me a supervisor who tells me at least once a week how happy he is that I took the writing burden away from him.
For that reason, I really, really, want this vest to survive, so it can be a tangible memento of a difficult but still useful and positive time in my life. I rediscovered knitting in a similar during a really really hard time. Its place in my life has grown beyond occupational therapy, but every piece I've made is a record of who I was at the time, and a reminder of what I can accomplish. Including getting through a botched steek, I hope!