Yarntrap

Yarn is the one thing in my world that Just Doesn't Go Away.  Ever.  If yarn was a shark, it's got hold of my leg and it's dragging me under.  Seriously.  I am drowning in yarn.  I have a huge lane chest full, and two huge plastic bins the same size as the lane chest full, and probably enough yarn to fill yet another plastic bin that size, with some left over.  I have been in the process of going through my stash, and I have discovered a few things.

1.  I am apparently a process knitter.  You cannot call yourself a product knitter if you NEVER FINISH A PRODUCT.  I have finished so very few things, that I must be a process knitter.  The processes the I love the most involve planning, designing, writing out a pattern, adjusting and customizing an existing pattern, choosing the materials, starting the work -- even the swatching.  I like swatching.  GO FIGURE.  and guess what?  NONE of those things gets me a sweater to wear.  Not a one.

2.  All that stuff in #1?  BS.   I'm an ADHD knitter.  No product can hold my attention long enough to get finished.  Some call it fickle, but I call it...  oh, look, angora!

3.  My looms scare me.  I have a very nice little 24" rigid heddle loom that is currently wearing a purple double heddle woven bit of fabric that MUST be nearly done... and yet I don't work on it.  I look at it, and I think to myself, "but what if i'm doing it wrong?"  and "how will i finish it?"   OH, my. So there it sits, begging me to come back and finish it up - and I suppose eventually I will.  I want to make other things, don't you know.

4.  I love fiber.  I mean, the fiber itself, the skeins of yarn, the balls of wool, they call to me.  Loud.  Even the ugly ones.  Deep in the HUGE selection of stash yarn in my little home, there are some tragically ugly skeins of yarn... and I just can't toss them in the trash.  I mean...  ugly babies need love too.  

5.  I love learning new ways to knit, weave and spin.  I have in recent days spent chunks of time looking on the internet at the different ways of knitting and weaving, just for the sake of seeing "how they do that!"  and I love it.  I love seeing the ways that people have made themselves different kinds of tools for their fiber craft, and I love the ways that people have hacked this loom or that to do different kinds of things.  I have never DONE any Brioche knitting, but I am learning all about it and I will probably cast something on at some point, just so I can try it.  I don't use a spinning wheel, but I owned one for a minute or two about a decade ago, because I wanted to know how it worked.  Once I understood it, I was done with it, and I finally sold it to a lovely lady who gave it a good home and a productive purpose.

6.  I hold fibergrudges.  This is a shame.  I mean, you know That Skein that's left over from That Ugly Failed Garment?  You know the garment.  It's the one that had the hateful stitch, or the horrible mistake in the pattern, and you just QUIT the project because it was so frustrating and hideous?  You hurled it in the farthest, most forgotten depth of your yarn stash, to give it an eternal time-out?  Yeah.  there's the leftover yarn, right THERE.   It's actually not ugly yarn.  It's ok.  It's nice wool, with some bamboo or something luxurious mixed in.  It's probably expensive.  and will I use THAT YARN?  NO.   why?  because it is associated with the UGLY FAILED HATEFUL ABANDONED BEASTLY THING.  

7.  I'm a fibervangelist. Yes.  Witness:
  ME:  sitting in the waiting area of .. some office where I'm waiting.  Knitting (a cotton mesh market bag, if you must know.
  RANDOM CHICK:  Oh, wow!   that's so cool!
  ME:  (a bit smugly, and in complete agreement)  Why, thank you.
  CHICK:  My grandmother knits like that.
  ME:  (eyes narrowing, and thinking unkind things about CHICK)  I'm sure she and I would get along, then.  All us old ladies who knit love each other.
  CHICK:  (completely missing the bitterness under that comment)  Of course!  I could never do that.  
  ME:  (sensing a potential convert to yarnishness)  Sure you could.  If you can write your name, you know,  then you have all the dexterity you need.
  CHICK:  (almost ready to take the bait)  You think?
  ME:  you know, I'm here most Tuesdays, I could teach you...  
  CHICK:  Could I make a scarf?
  ME:  (gotcha!)  Sure!  (whipping out paper and making a list)  Here's what to get and where, and I'll get you started next week.

8.  My yarn makes me feel smarter.  I know stuff about it that lots of other people don't know.  I know stuff about the tools and the fibers and the fabrics.  I have preferences about kinds of wool and blends of fibers and shapes and lengths and brands of needles.   I know what a rigid heddle is, and I know what an inkle band is, and I know what a Turkish spindle does that is really cool.  (It makes a center pull ball, so you don’t have to rewind your singles!  And I know what center pull balls are, and I know what singles are!)

9.  I only give knitted things to people I really, really like.  A lot.  Because yeah, it might not cost that much in dollars (ok, that’s usually a lie:  yarn for a really nice sweater can cost $150 or even twice that much) but it costs a lot more in brains and time and energy and thought.  I think about people when I knit for them.  I don’t want to think about people I don’t really like, so I don’t knit for them.   If I give you so much as a little lacy bookmark, it means I really, really like you.

9.  My yarn motivates me to play with yarn.

And with that, I’m going to go finish up the handle on that market bag, weave in the ends, and give it as a gift to a friend.