My mind is all over the place these days. One minute there's some funneh, the next there's national socialism. These are the daemons I can't control. And I have to remind myself I am not responsible for them or the repercussions of their crazeh.
But then there are the daemons I can control:
Sundara Sport in LE color Time Travels
Sundara Sport in Glacier
Two different intensities of Madtosh Sport in Cove
Madtosh Sport in Violin
There are as many opinions about stash as there are people. I have, in fact, two paradoxical opinions. The first opinion is that "one should only have the yarn one needs to knit now." The second opinion is "Pretty! Wowza! Pretty! I wanna, I wanna, here's my money give give give it to me now! NOW!"
The latter opinion has been the dominant one at chez yarn for over almost two years. I now have no more room for yarn. Or should I say, I don't want to make anymore room for yarn. The amount I have is obscene. It's vulgar to have so much yarn. It goes against my inner puritan or the unspoken rules of my Yiddish youth. Take your pick. There's just too much yarn.
And there's even more on the web. Pretty colors everywhere all yours for the handy price of blahdiddeblahblahbleh. I don't need more yarn. Yes it's pretty, so take a picture. Don't buy the skein. Or five. Just don't.
Now all that is well and fine to have clinking around your brain, but it's exhausting. I'm exhausted. And after buying eight skeins of the lovely Madtosh sport, captioned above, from Kaleidoscope Yarns I found a solution to my yarn battle: Bagged yarn.
I already eat a bagged lunch, sans bag. Why not pack a yarn cocktail, as well?
For about a week now, I bring three fresh skeins of complimentary (to me) colors and place them prominently on my desk at work. A yarn salve. Weeeeeeeeee!
1. Pfingstrose, 2. Ball and Skein Wetherfield, 3. Bronzed Forest Sock
It's foolish to call something a success after a week, but I feel the magic of it working and I want to shout it from the bell tower.
I think one of the problems for me, as a pet owner and being naturally fastidious, I am compelled to tuck my yarn away in a plastic bag, in a bin, in a closet. As soon as the yarn is photographed, catalogued, and secured safely away from the world, the emotional connection to it that drove me to purchase it in the first place decays.
Needing that connection, I find myself trolling yarn stores on the web. It only takes a heartbeat from viewing yarn to typing in my name and credit card number to own the yarn. And that is what I have been doing, especially with Sundara becoming so much more available over the past six months.
For beasts, it is music that is said to soothe. For me? It is yarn. Now when I'm frustrated or I just need a mental palate freshener, I look to my yarn cocktail and well, I am rejuvenated.