It was awful. There were tears and tantrums and we both blamed each other for the hurt that we were going through.
I think it all started when the Doubt and the Fear set in. I just looked at the Ripply Beast one day and said “I’m not sure if I really like you.” I know, it’s a terribly thing to even think, let alone speak out loud and I must have hurt its feelings dreadfully but I really am having doubts about him. He’s just so blinking colourful, I don’t understand how that happened. I’m pretty sure that I had a vague idea in my head that this blanket was going to be a little bit Classic and understated and somehow I’ve ended up with this riot of colour that isn’t cohesive in the slightest.
I don’t know how it happened. I guess I just got over-excited choosing the colours and I’m not 100% convinced that I really know how to choose colours. I should have realised this earlier, I mean I knew that I had 11 different colours going in to the blanket and I looked at them being all beautiful in my bag but for some reason I just didn’t connect the dots.
And as much as I think it’s cool to have loads of colour, I’m not sure how my Dad and his wife are going to react to it. I’ve been trying to keep my cool by reminding myself that they’re not really good at interiors themselves (harsh but oh so very true), but the Doubt and the Fear are starting to nest permanently in my head. I was planning on telling them that it was for their house in France anyway, I guess that way, if they do hate it it can just live in a different country and they won’t have to face it that often.
So the fact that I have the Doubt and the Fear nestling on my shoulder, meant that I wasn’t really feeling in the mood in the work on him and I think that’s when he really took the hump.
Ripply Beast - 23rd November 2011
When I finally did pull myself around and start back on him I realised I was at an interesting point in construction. I was facing the dilemma that all crocheters (and I’m assuming knitters) face - I was coming to the end of my first balls of yarn. I was there, trying to gauge things and decide if I could eek it out just a little bit further and decided that I could probably at least get one row of ripple out of what was left and then start the new ball for the second row of ripple. This would avoid me running out half way through and having to tie the end of the old ball to the new one in a way that isn’t coming to fall apart and isn’t going to result in an unsightly blemish in the middle of the blanket.
Scraps of wool that are going to look awesome in my glass jars
All was going well until I got all taffled up in a knot. Instead of calmly pulling it out I had a freak out and pulled as hard as I could, which rather inevitably resulted in me snapping the wool, meaning that I ended up having to tie some ends together and do exactly what I had tried so hard to avoid.
I tried not to be put off and moved on to the next row where I had some kind of total brain malfunction which caused me to go wrong twice meaning that a whole row had to be ripped out twice because I lost the inability to count properly.
At that point, Ripply Beast was abandoned for some time whilst we both tried to come to terms with this sudden decline in our relationship.
But I realised that it’s just too late to do anything about it now. I’m too far down the road to start again and I’m just going to have to forge ahead despite the Doubt and Fear jackhammering into my skull.
But even if I don’t like it, there are two people who love it...
Fred - who seriously did love it. As in loved it so much I couldn't leave it alone for 2 seconds before he climbed on it loved it. I'm still picking ginger and white fur off it.