My name is Scotvalkyrie and I'm a Fiberholic.
Tuesday, Aug. 04, 2009 at 7:16 a.m.
I need to admit that I have a problem.
Well, when I say �problem� what I really mean is an addiction.
Not to drugs, sex (the Hubster is sorry to say), drink (that situation really worked itself out when I was let go from the scenic studio job 6 years ago), or even food (despite my need for Weight Watchers�).
It�s none of those things. My addiction is yarn.
I learned how to knit 3 and a half years ago in an attempt to keep myself from going nuts when I was recovering from surgery. I thought it would be a fun hobby. I bought a few skeins of yarn and a couple of pairs of needles.
Then IT began.
A few skeins of yarn wasn�t enough. And the skeins of yarn � the cheapo and ubiquitous acrylic yarn that has been around since Dow and Monsanto have been around � wasn�t enough for me. I needed to try all the yarn. The softer acrylics, the wool blends, and I even went through a phase of �novelty yarn�. That is, the fun fur, the eyelash, the goofy-ass bobbly shit that only Scottsdale mavens find exciting as they knit up gift items that no one in their right mind would wear.
Skinny yarn. Thick yarn. Then it wasn�t so much a matter of type of yarn, it was the sheer amount.
The stash grew. And grew and grew. Several times I have attempted to cull the stash. It works for a little while. And then I see something in the clearance bin and even though I shouldn�t haven�t gone in the Yarn Store, it still called me with its siren song and I was inside before I knew it, looking in the bargain bin and then the next thing I know I�m going home with two more skeins of sock yarn.
Oh, sock yarn. Sock yarn is the worst. Because It Isn�t Part of the Stash. Sock Yarn Stash is a separate entity, and the logic behind this is that sock yarn takes up so little room, but then you suddenly have a whole 10-gallon tub dedicated to sock yarn. Just to sock yarn. No one person needs 40 pairs of socks. But I don�t love anyone else enough to make them a pair of socks, as I magically cast on the toe and turn each heel after a heel extension flap with sheer love. Sheer love, I tell you, to knit miles of skinny yarn with toothpick-sized needles to get something that will wear out sooner than anything else in the knitted world.
But that brings me to the needles.
Needles. You can�t have one pair. You need pairs of every single imaginable size. Then you have to have more than one pair of each size because a pair is currently ensconced in a UFO. (UnFinished Object) But you have favorite pairs, so favorite that you have several sets of them. And then the circular needles. Of course, to make socks you need two circular needles of the same size. But you can�t work on one pair of socks at once. You have to have a project in your purse, because who knows when you�re going to get stuck in traffic or at the doctor�s office or suddenly find yourself out to lunch by yourself. So the circular needles come into the house. You have to try every single variety. Clover Takumi. Lion Brand. Denise. Addi Turbo. Addi Lace. Addi Clicks. KP Harmony. And then you have a whole stash of needles, many of which are the cheap ones you got early in your knitting career but you will never use because the cable is twisty crap, and you don�t want to give them away, because you don�t want to wish them on a new, bright-eyed future knitter.
It�s a sickness, I tell you. Now if you�ll excuse me, I have a UFO calling my name.