Yarn stash

One of the combined joys and pains of knitting is the stash. You see a lovely yarn in the sale bin and just have to have it, and look - there's enough to make a sweater. Next thing you know your house is full of lovely yarn that you have no time to use and it looks at you reproachfully every time you lovingly handle it and put it back in the stash. The Yarn Harlot has written about this so perfectly that every knitter I know who's read her has felt that thrill of recognition.

I'm really trying to work through my stash before acquiring more, and yet there's such temptation everywhere. Yesterday I found the recycled sari yarn that a friend had shown me and am now dreaming of buying a few skeins and making some gorgeous ..... somethings. Hats? Bags? Who knows, but the yarn's fabulous. The day after publicly declaring I would buy no more until I'd worked through some of the stash, a non-knitting friend took me to a store that had yarn on sale and I ended up getting a bag of bamboo yarn (admittedly a textile I had expressed an interest in at the same time as declaring I would refrain from adding to the stash).

Knitting

I've been knitting for almost as long as I can remember. I have a dim memory of sitting on my mother's lap holding her knitting needles and her showing me how to guide the yarn and make stitches. For years it was a skill that seemed to be regarded as rather old lady-ish, but perhaps so many people kept away from it because of that there is now a generation who think it's cool. Actually, they seem to think they invented it.

These days I meet up with some like-minded knitters most weeks at a local Panera Bread and indulge in KIP (Knitting In Public). The people who do comment are very enthusiastic and love to see something useful going on.