Sometimes it really is me and I just have to deal with it and move on.
In the case of this sock pattern and my knitting skills, the fact that the ankle decrease kept coming out fucked up was decidedly a me thing.
So, I did what many reasonable and mature women do in times of failing relationships, I sought comfort in the arms of another.
See, despite my four big tries at getting this ankle decrease to work out, I never NOT ONCE got the stitch count to shake out right. 47 stitches remaining? Um, not even close. Plus, it looked like the cat had dragged the sock off to her bed and had her way with it, so that wasn't going to fly. It wasn't working out.
The pattern was probably fine, but we clearly weren't meant for each other, so it was time to start putting some space between us and perhaps time for me to find some other pattern to love.
And so, I went back to an old friend for comfort. And by "old friend" I mean, the heel, gusset and toe pattern from Bubba's socks.
See, this pattern never wronged me. The stitch count always came out right. I never had any moments of doubt when I thought I'd made a horrible mistake and should head for the hills with my CD collection and toothbrush while he was at work. Or whatever.
As I dug my #2 needle out from under the sofa after my *very mature* temper tantrum that resulted in me having to reknit the bottom third of the leg, I turned my back on the Lace Rib Knee Sock pattern and brought the heel/gusset/toe portion of Africa's Socks back into my bed.
In less skanky terms, I swapped everything beyond the "Continue in pattern stitch as established until work measures 20 3/4" from beginning." from Lace Rib Knee Socks with everything starting with "Begin Slipped Stitch Heel" from Africa's Socks.
Sure, I had to do a little math, but I will say that in this one instance, it was the lesser of two evils. I was done trying to work it out. I wanted something familiar and predictable that didn't have a drinking problem or ride a motorcycle. I wanted my Africa's sock gusset pattern and I was willing to crunch a few numbers to make it work with the Lace Rib Knee Sock leg pattern.
Is this getting too obscure?
This is how the #1 Crazy Ass Frankensock came out with the Lace Rib Knee Sock pattern on the leg and the gusset/heel/toe pattern on the heel and foot:
You'll notice the lace pattern stops at the ankle, which is a little sad, but you might also notice how nicely the heel turns and the sock finishes without looking at all like a pile of horseshit. Nice!
Plus, you may also notice that the lace looks decent, which is the direct result of me reknitting the bottom third of the leg after I javelined the project and each of its needles across the room in frustration.
I'm now on to Crazy Ass Frankensock #2 and having a fine time of it. I haven't slug it across the room yet or started drunk dialing another pattern in a fit of rage or anything, so I have a good feeling about the final outcome of the pair.
If you are somehow interested in creating your own pair of Lacey Frankensocks of the knee-length variety, the details of my Frankensocking are raveled here.
I am, however, poised to commit one of the most detrimental acts of knitting - I may be setting this project aside to begin another sweater in the event that my proper sized needles show up before I finish these socks.
Terrible, I know. And basically fraught with peril, too. My plan is to work on the sweater (which will take me one hundred years, I'm sure) at home and take the second sock in this pair on the road with me during the upcoming Turkey holiday when we'll be traveling like morons.
Will that make me a total yarn slut? Will I have to take up an organized religion in order to repent my yarn sins? What do you think the odds are that I will finish either project?
These are all questions for someone more sane of mind than I. Meanwhile, I will be carefully working through Frankensock #2 tonight while I keep an ear on the election results and try not to give in to any brewing tantrums.
Wish me luck.