Beware the Knitting Gods!

Once upon a time, there lived a knitter who had knitted many things. Some turned out well and some didn't. In fact, over the two and half years that she had been knitting, many of her finished objects had turned out rather wonky. Some were too big, some were too small, some were just right. Then, one day, she had two finished objects in a row that turned out really well, here and here. They turned out to be the right size for the intended recipient, had only a few easy to conceal mistakes, and looked good. In all, they were well-executed. This pleased the knitter, for she already had a closet full of less than functional knitwear. Rather than humble herself before the knitting gods (she wasn't exactly sure they existed anyway), she soldiered on and cast on for Soleil.

She had made a previous attempt to knit Soleil and it had been one of her wonkier knits. It was too small, too short and made with a yarn that faded when washed and didn't show the lace detail very well. It was, in short, unwearable. However, the knitter felt that she had learned a lot since she had first tried Soleil one year ago. Again, the knitter eschewed the knitting gods, cast on and began knitting, making amazing progress in just two days.

At the same time, she decided it was time to felt her French Market Bag, which had been languishing for about a week.

The knitting gods sat in their demonic circle on the uncharted Isle of Fair, and set about laughing and snorting as they thought about the knitter's arrogance. Who was she, they chortled, to think she could have three, even four, successful projects in a row? The gumption of such a knitter!

Sneering, they cast their evil spell and, knit one, purl two, the curse took hold. First, her lovely Soleil, which just the afternoon before had been a vision of loveliness, twisted itself into a moebius disaster. It would have to be completely ripped out and begun again! At the same moment, her French Market Bag slid out of the pillowcase it had been secured in and proceeded to suck the fuzz from the towels with which it was being washed.

Ha!, exclaimed the knitting gods, as they slithered to and fro. That will show her! And so it did. From then on, the knitter would have faith in the knitting gods and bow before them, basking in her humility.