Enough is Enough
There is a point where you just can't stuff any more yarn under the bed. Really, truly. It is probably one of those mass to ratio or some sort of engineering notions that my husband could explain, but face it, I make it a rule never to ask an engineer to explain something. Because they will. In agonizing detail. But I digress.
No, the ugly truth comes sneaking up on you when you least expect it. Suddenly one day, after you've made another necessary run to the yarn store, (and don't tell me that yarn therapy isn't necessary, because it is) and you come home to hide, er, I mean, put away the evidence and you won't be able to find another place to stash it. The under-the-bed storage containers are overflowing, the downstairs closet (as seen here)
has runneth over, even that neat space under the stairs will no longer bear the burden. And there you will find yourself, clutching your new yarn to your chest and promising it softly and assuredly that it doesn't have to go back to that mean and cold yarn store and have that icy cold feeling down your spine.
You have too much yarn.
Too much yarn? Say it isn't so.
But it can happen. Even to nice people. Now I came to this realization about a year ago. And I vowed come January 2006, I would not buy any new yarn for a year. That I would "knit my stash." After stocking up frantically the last week of 2005, I stuck to my vow for about . . . well, a week. Oh, stop smiling to yourself. I made it a week, and that in itself should count for something. I blame eBay. And a complete lack of will power.
But that didn't eliminate the problem of too much yarn. And it is amazing how resourceful you can become when you have to find new places to store the stash. Now I am not one to encourage people in their bad habits, but I found that if I cleaned out the file cabinets in my home office, all that free space just called out for something to fill it up. And did I.
They ought to do a Survivior season on this--because no one is more resourceful than a woman with too much yarn--think of the challenges: getting all your 100% wool under the bed, who can sneak in into the house the most skeins, how many projects can you have on needles at once. Wow! I'd watch, if only to learn a few more tricks.
But really, I need to stop. At least until this closet looks a little less, well, full. So I am, from here on out, at least for the time being, knitting from stash. At least I am this week. Want to see how long I last? Stay in touch.
Want to join in? Got some closet confessions of your own? Do share. Where is the most incredible place you've stashed yarn?
There is a point where you just can't stuff any more yarn under the bed. Really, truly. It is probably one of those mass to ratio or some sort of engineering notions that my husband could explain, but face it, I make it a rule never to ask an engineer to explain something. Because they will. In agonizing detail. But I digress.
No, the ugly truth comes sneaking up on you when you least expect it. Suddenly one day, after you've made another necessary run to the yarn store, (and don't tell me that yarn therapy isn't necessary, because it is) and you come home to hide, er, I mean, put away the evidence and you won't be able to find another place to stash it. The under-the-bed storage containers are overflowing, the downstairs closet (as seen here)
has runneth over, even that neat space under the stairs will no longer bear the burden. And there you will find yourself, clutching your new yarn to your chest and promising it softly and assuredly that it doesn't have to go back to that mean and cold yarn store and have that icy cold feeling down your spine.You have too much yarn.
Too much yarn? Say it isn't so.
But it can happen. Even to nice people. Now I came to this realization about a year ago. And I vowed come January 2006, I would not buy any new yarn for a year. That I would "knit my stash." After stocking up frantically the last week of 2005, I stuck to my vow for about . . . well, a week. Oh, stop smiling to yourself. I made it a week, and that in itself should count for something. I blame eBay. And a complete lack of will power.
But that didn't eliminate the problem of too much yarn. And it is amazing how resourceful you can become when you have to find new places to store the stash. Now I am not one to encourage people in their bad habits, but I found that if I cleaned out the file cabinets in my home office, all that free space just called out for something to fill it up. And did I.
They ought to do a Survivior season on this--because no one is more resourceful than a woman with too much yarn--think of the challenges: getting all your 100% wool under the bed, who can sneak in into the house the most skeins, how many projects can you have on needles at once. Wow! I'd watch, if only to learn a few more tricks.
But really, I need to stop. At least until this closet looks a little less, well, full. So I am, from here on out, at least for the time being, knitting from stash. At least I am this week. Want to see how long I last? Stay in touch.
Want to join in? Got some closet confessions of your own? Do share. Where is the most incredible place you've stashed yarn?
Comments
Ebay is the source of all evil for knitting supplies. *grin* I feel your pain.