I have been knitting away on the Sockpal Socks at every opportunity. I laboured to appease the lace goddess so that she would allow me to sockcessfully finish the pattern. I moved with relief into the "subtly ribbed" top of the foot and happilly knit away in cars, on airplanes, and in the dimming light. Yesterday I planned to finish the sock during a potentially (and actually) dull inservice session. I was checking the length of the foot and planning to start the toe decrease soon. Naturally, my tablemates were intrigued and I proudly slipped the sock onto my arm, the better to show off the lovely lace leg.
That was when I saw it. I was speechless.
My companions grew concerned at the play of emotion and colour chasing each other across my face. The appearance of a very off colour thought bubble floating above my head was downright alarming to all. It is glaring.
See that. That is what happens when you knit in the car at twilight, while watching the ditch for suicidal deer, crazed elk, and hoping like hell the moose stay in the woods.
The way I see it I have 3 options. Feel free to suggest others or to guess what I'm going to do.
Option #1 Forget about it. Finish the sock. The deadline is screaming up on me and I still have a whole sock to knit. Besides, no one will see it inside the shoe anyway. (favoured by the non-knitters at my table)
Option #2 Frog back 2 inches of foot, fix the 2 screwed up stitches, and reknit.
Option #3 Get clever. Hold the stitches on a spare needle and drop just the 2 wrong ones, open the line to the mistake, then use a miniscule crochet hoot to ladder back up to the needle.