The Yarn Jones

Okay, I guess I have more yarn than I'll ever knit up in this lifetime. I've got baskets full of yarn. I've got bins full of yarn. I've got an antique wardrobe full of yarn. I've got a "jelly cabinet" full of yarn. I've got a modular wall unit full of yarn.

So why do I obsessively browse sites like Smileys and Little Knits and etsy, and sigh and moon and have to exert the most extreme self-control to not order more?

I can't remember where I saw it--one of the knitting magazines--an essay that calls it collecting--in other words, the point is not being able to eventually knit all that yarn, but just the sheer pleasure of having it. Looking at it, fondling it, enjoying the colors and textures and letting your imagine roam, considering all the things you *could* do with it.

I think this is the truth about the yarn jones. Here's a prime example: http://www.littleknits.com/proddetail.php?prod=MarjaanaJaneAdams How could you not desire to have that sitting in a cubby glowing out at you?

Of course it's also why I'm drawn like a moth to a flame to all those wonderful handpaints. I would have a larger wardrobe if I were practical and bought large amounts of plain wool in plain colors. Problem is, plain wool in plain colors, no matter to what fabulous use they can be put, simply doesn't knock me off my feet the way a handpaint from Schaefer or Mountain Colors or Koigu or Over the Rainbow can. It's while I'm lying there dazed and dazzled that somehow my credit card creeps out of my pocket and I soon have another skein (or two) of breathtaking yarn speeding its way to ornament my house.

Speaking of dazzled, Happy Fourth to everyone.