We all fall down part 1.Posted: 28/01/2012
When I first started crocheting I had two things I was determined not to do. I was not going to acquire stash that did not have an associated project and I was not going to acquire unfinished objects that would languish, mere mothbait, in bags around my flat.
Partly this was fear of clutter. I’m not the world’s tidiest person and I have a hatred of accumulating stuff as a result.The fewer things I own the fewer things can end up on the floor or in piles on every flat surface.
Partly it was just frugality. I’ve been living on a fairly tight budget for the last few years and the idea of building up a stash of yarn when I really need an emergency fund was scary to me. Partly it was a hatred of the part of myself that is a starter and not a finisher. The part that enters projects ablaze with enthusiasm and whines when things get rough.
Oh but I am only human and there are so many pretty patterns in the world (too many of them in my head) and there are many, many pretty yarns. Oh and the yarn shops will find a way to tempt. With their sales and their last-chance-to-buys and their skeins that aren’t quite big enough for a whole project so you have to buy two. And don’t get me started about enabling friends…
I now have two clear plastic boxes full of yarn. That’s apart from the skeins in project bags halfway through being made into projects. Oh and the big plastic bag of Sirdar Big Softie that I will be making into cushion covers.
I’ve sorted the yarn in boxes into two types. Box A is the good box. Box A contains all the yarns that I know what I want to do with. My neverending shrug project and my two current lace shawls (and the other one that I have designed but not started) and my slouchy jumper and the last bit of ribbing for my mauve cardigan.
Box B. Now Box B is a different matter. Box B is the naughty box. Box B is the box that sits in the corner mocking me with it’s fibres rare and strange saying “you bought us, now what are you going to do with us?” Box B contains the little packets of sale yarn. The ends of skeins of past projects. The mohair and the handspun that I have been offered as gifts and couldn’t bear to refuse. The bright shiny tencel that I might be going to make into motifs, if I didn’t kind of hate motifs. Box B is a joker and a tease. Box B is everything I was afraid of.