I've been doing a lot of sample knitting lately, and I've started feeling like I'm turning into a bit of a magnet for patterns that are either mistake-ridden, or if they contain no mistakes, still leave some things so unclear as to make it difficult for a knitter to know what's being asked.
And in no fewer than three patterns in a row I've found the abbreviated instruction "M1" with no explanation of what that means and how to work it.
Now, you'd think being an experienced knitter would help with that. Up to a point, you'd be right, because I do happen to know that "M1" stands for "Make 1", meaning make a new stitch. In other words, it's an increase.
That said: there are several ways to make a M1. I'll set aside the occasional use in vintage patterns, where a M1 can mean a YO (yarn-over, wrapping the yarn around the needle to make a hole) -- Furze Hewitt uses it this way in her books on vintage lace patterns.
The most common way to M1? Knit into the front and back of the stitch.
Another way to do it? Lift the bar between two stitches and knit into it. There are two variations on this, the M1L and M1R (make 1 left and make 1 right), so depending on whether you pick up the bar from the front of the work or from the back, you can make the M1 lean left or right, which can be important if you want things to look Just So.
So, I know this information. Many of you do, too. So I suppose you're wondering why I'm complaining?
Because of those three patterns with their undefined instructions. In each of the three cases, I was presented with a M1 with no further definition of how to work it. And each time? I chose the wrong way to work it, until I either figured it out for myself, or contacted the pattern writer to ask for clarification.
And each time? I had to rip out and re-do or rip out and re-start.
So what would have prevented that? Simple -- the pattern writer could have defined what they meant by that abbreviation. Frankly, I think that's a common courtesy for your potential knitter.
And what does the title of this post mean in all this?
It comes from a story I heard this morning, told by Ajahn Brahm, the abbot of the Bodhinyana Monestary in Serpentine, Australia -- in the story, a man stands at the edge of a hole, at the bottom of which is a treasure. He can't reach the treasure, and upset, complains that the hole is too deep. Another man comes along, takes a stick, and retrieves the treasure. The problem, he says, is not that the hole is too deep, it's that your arms are too short. If you complain that the hole is too deep, you'll end up with nothing. If you realize your arms are too short, you can find a solution.
So, maybe it's not that the M1 hole is too deep: it's just that in order to reach the treasure -- in order to know which M1 to use where, and to know specifically which M1 a designer wants you to work -- well, maybe the solution is to have the designer tell you how. In the pattern. By simply defining the term as he or she used it.
And that's what I wish: that designers would put themselves in the shoes of the people who will knit their patterns, and make that experience an enjoyable one for the knitter. Make the knitter feel like they've worked this pattern and have retrieved the treasure from the bottom of the hole.
Because really? The hole is not too deep for that. We just need to make sure the knitters have the tools they need. All of them.
Comments