Here’s the thing: over the years, I’ve accumulated a lot of yarn, or what I perceive as being a lot of yarn, anyway. And for the most part, it hasn’t really bothered me. I’ve been perfectly comfortable with my growing stash because, hey, I’m a grownup, it’s my money, I can spend it on whatever I want, and buying yarn makes me happy (but doesn’t make anyone else unhappy). Knitting was what I DID. Of COURSE I needed yarn! Like… duh.
Now that I’ve started branching out into sewing, expanding my crafting horizons, as it were (and thus, have begun cultivating a wee fabric stash), the stash has been… well… bothering me. Sort of. A bit.
It’s just that it’s THERE all the time, you know? Like an ex-boyfriend (or girlfriend!) that you still have to room with. Constantly reminding me that I *used* to have eyes only for knitting. I *used* to get such a rush out of yarn, all kinds of yarn. I *used* to be a Knitter.
So yeah… my stash is giving me a wicked case of the guilts. I mean… I’ve got yarn in the stash that I bought in 2006! I was OK with that when all I did was knit, confident in the
Where do we go from here, my darling stash? How can I make it right between us once more? Would you cut me some slack if I brought you some new yarn? How about some shiny laceweight? Or sock yarn? I know how much you love sock yarn.
Well, think it over. I’ll be sewing while you make up your mind.