The wonderful thing about frogging

Is that frogging’s a wonderful thing.

There’s been a fair bit of blogging about frogging around the Year of Projects community, as projects don’t turn out, or even start, as we’d hoped. Frogging presents any number of choices. To do it, or to ignore the error and carry on? To rip back the whole thing, or “just” to the point where salvage and salvation may be possible? For those of us who are still finding our feet with the needles (so to speak) there’s the very real fear that separating needles from work, unravelling, and re-inserting the needles may well introduce more errors than those we’re seeking to repair.

Having completed my inaugural frog-back & try again last week (twice), I have a whole new respect for frogging. It’s almost like turning back time, albeit with a few kinks (both literally and metaphorically).

I love that knitting (and crochet) can both be ripped back to wherever you were just before things started to go wrong. Or right back to before the start, if you decide that your commitment to either yarn, pattern or size was misplaced. “All” we lose is time, and possibly yarn, if that was the culprit.

Compare that to the curry I made whilst the Mister was away on work one time. Two hours of work and it was absolutely inedible. All those lovely ingredients wasted. All that bin space used. All that cleaning up, and I still had nothing to eat. If cooking was like knitting I could have just pulled a string and backed it out to several un-chopped veggies, a clean kitchen, and time to phone for a take-out. OK, possibly not that last one, but you get the point.

Frogging is a pain, and it can be heartbreaking. But at least we can frog, as much or as little as we need. And then we can start again.  With the exactly the same yarn, if we want. I think more of life should be froggable. That said, I’m trying to learn not to knit when I’m likely to introduce errors. After or during wine, when I’d need to rush, or when I’ve allowed my daughter to wind me up. Frogging may rock, but there’s no need to overdo it.


5 thoughts on “The wonderful thing about frogging

  1. Great post!! Yes, frogging can be seen as something positive and something that isn’t always able to be done in other aspects of our lives so when we can (such as in knitting), we should! And sorry to hear about your sad curry — ; (

  2. Thank you both! Marsha, I’m so sorry that you had to frog but I’m glad you’re feeling better abouut it now. Evelyn, it was your post about frogging the blue tank that made me sit down and write this. I actually couldn’t look the first time that I pulled the needle out of the cardigan and started unravelling, but it looks so much better now than it ever could have done if I’d just carried on. I read somewhere that frogging is just another knitting skill, and that makes sense now.

  3. I have recently embraced frogging. I recently frogged a sweater, a scarf and one fingerless glove (that I will start again). I also partially frogged a sock back to mid heel flap from the gusset and am now almost done with. Rather than be sad about the totally frogged items I am looking forward to reusing the yarn for something I like rather than being unhappy with a completed project.

I always enjoy comments, thank you for reading.

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