It's a thrill

The husband has taken up a new hobby. This activity involves regaling all of my friends, in melodramatic jerkface fashion, with exaggerated accounts of my yarn stash. They all laugh and shake their heads as he impersonates demon yarn monsters hunkering down in all livable corners of the apartment. Now, I ask you, is this so bad?:


No, friend, it is not. I admit, it's not very attractive, spilling all over that corner of our bedroom. In private, Jake and I have agreed that whenever either of us verbally recognizes the rapidly growing size or containment issues of my stash, the unanimous, undisputed solution is that I knit more. (One time, the poor man suggested that I purchase less yarn. It's possible his ears are still ringing.) However, I am a woman of quality and style; I work hard to knit gifts that change people's lives and give them a reason to wake up in the morning. Therefore, I deserve a yarn storage system with more panache. Presto Change-o!


Ta-da! Pretty, huh? I even stuck a little lavender sachet in each box to ward off the mothies. I was so pleased with myself after this, I went after my circular needles, all crowded into a rumpled ziploc back. Ewww...


Fibracadabra! PooF!









I was on a roll. I crouched down on the floor and hauled out all my yarn books and magazines from under the bed (I can't keep them on the bookshelf down the hall....they're too far away) and stacked them neatly in the basket-formerly-known-as-yarn-stash.

Now, before I leave you to swoon in private envy, I should tell you one more delicious thing. Friday afternoon, I left campus convinced that I had to drive by Woolie Ewe for a little post-traumatic-school yarn petting. This conviction made zero sense since I had just been there the day before to buy a needle, and I had already spent my yarn budget for the week (don't laugh...it's necessary). I argued with myself all the way there, "Why are you doing this? You'll just make yourself crazy." But when I arrived, I saw what my subconscious must have known: Jared Flood and Cookie A were just milling around MY yarn store, looking fabulous and being genius right there next to the wall of alpaca. They each taught classes here all weekend, and I guess Friday evening was just their chance to spend some quiet time in the store. I should have introduced myself, but I was too shy and concerned I would come off idiotic. Besides, just spying on them was thrilling enough. No need to let either know that they have yet another rabid, dorky fan. Just know, I was close enough that if I wanted to, I could yank one of Cookie's green strands of hair, or lean over and sniff Jared's handknit sweater. I know, my self-control is astounding.

I will probably post several more times this week. "Cobblestone" is off the needles and blocking; "Split-Neckline Tee" is a few hours from finished; my "Booga" just needs felting; first pair of socks nearly finished. So freakin' exciting.