I was never a stash person. I tended to shop a few projects ahead of what I was knitting. As a lifelong renter who lived a peripatetic existence, storage and space were always an issue. But after my accident in 2021 which was in the heart of the pandemic I didn’t have much to do, so I shopped for yarn. I opened every promotional email I ordinarily would’ve deleted. I read every post and I clicked on every ad. And here we are three years later, and I have a glut of yarn. And I could probably store more. But I don’t want to. I have enough.
I go through my two so full I can barely get the lid on them Rubbermaid totes, and I am inspired. I’m excited about what I have. I can’t imagine anything better than what I’ve got. If my yarn was my wife I’d be one of those guys who says why go out for burgers when you have steak at home. Which is an odd thing to say. They are two very different cravings, for two very different meals. Sometimes I want steak. And more often I want a big juicy burger with a side of fries and a Coke Zero. But no matter what my craving in terms of yarncraft, I’ve got the right delicious dish to satisfy it.
Which you would think would be good news. But so much of knitting culture is rooted in shopping and showing off. It is a hobby with a side of aquisiton. This Saturday is Local Yarn Shop day. And I love my local yarn store. But I don’t want to buy any yarn. I don’t need to squirrel away notions. I have abudant tools and bags. I have enough. And when I’m alone with my skeins and balls it is a wonderful and joyous feeling. But when I’m with other knitters it feels like a dirty secret. It feels like I’m settling or too easily satisfied. But I HAVE SO MUCH YARN :D I find myself tempted to knit every single yard of it before I buy more. But…GASP.