Yesterday, as I took a break from packing and sat in our lawn swing knitting, I realized that I had made a mistake on the sock. Somehow, as I worked the decreases after the heel, I managed to deduct two stitches too many.

At first, I decided to just not work the last two stitches of the chart and keep moving forward. However, after a couple of rows, my nerves got the better of me. The thought of having the sock not pull all the way up my fat calves made me sad.

My options, at that point, limited themselves to two. I could frog the sock back the three rows or I could ladder down on each of the stitches and change them into four. I decided to ladder down.

After laddering down two stitches and picking back up four stitches, I was tired of the process. Then, as I worked the rest of the row, I made a decision – one I hadn’t made in a long, long time.

For the last few months, I have been dedicated to knitting perfection. I’ve been test-knitting and knitting prototypes and knitting samples. Any mistakes were eradicated by frogging down to the offending stitch and then laboriously knitting back so the piece would look its absolute best at all times.

I realized, in that moment, that this is my fun knitting. This is not anything that I have to display or allow others to inspect or use for anything but protecting and warming my feet. After all, most of the time, that place on my sock will be hidden by the back of my shoes or my pants. Who inspects my socks as I walk down the street or sit at a cafe? I would be the only one who knew or cared.

So, I did it.

Time Traveler Mistake
The mistake. Can you see it?

I knitted on, completely disregarding the patterning below my needles.

And I felt free!

I love this mistake.

Seriously, madly, deeply, truly love this mistake.

Isn’t it beautiful?