So, I might have a problem. Just a little one. I can't pass up a really good yarn on sale. I have roughly 20 skeins hidden about my bedroom. It's like a squirrel hoarding nuts, except I take them out periodically through my week to look at them and think deep knittery thoughts.
This isn't a large stash. Until you take into account that I have another hidden stash in my home office, and another in my library.... and none of these are counted as part of my "official" stash. You know, the one you own up to when people talk about the yarn they have.
The worst part? There will always be a fabulous yarn out there. I know this.
But walk into a yarn shop, and the atmosphere overcomes me. Before I know it, I'm paying homage to the cash register in order to walk away with irresistible booty. I feel no buyer's remorse over yarn purchases. Yarn is realizable potential yet to be tapped. Fondling it through fingers, I can picture the many options and possibilities it could succumb to.
The act of knitting, however, is my little act of Zen. Until it isn't. At which point, my knitting learns all kinds of new and exciting invectives. The more colorful the better. After all, what is knitting with no color?
Maybe what I need is to collect all stash into one spot. Put it into a padlocked box. Force random passers by to dig an underground fortress and then off them all so only I will know where it is....
Or maybe I should just knit faster.
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