Stash n. 1. a store or cache of money or valuables. 2. something hidden away.
And the stash itself, well, what can I say? When I think of my stash various thoughts and feelings come to mind: happiness, guilt, desire, my deep love of plastic tubs, and, oh god, I wish this house had a basement so that everything that’s taking up valuable yarn storage space in my closets could be put down there.
The thing that is most overwhelming to me, though, is the sense of what all this luscious, yarny goodness has the potential to become. Not just socks or a shawl, but instead, something to keep my DDs toes cozy, or the dramatic entrance I’ll be able to make in my “Gail” shawl of Handmaiden SeaSilk at my friend’s fundraiser.
Furthermore, no skein must be what it was purchased to become. (And yes, I do buy yarn with specific projects in mind.) For instance, one skein of exquisite, hand dyed Miss Babs Yummy sock yarn might be made, forthrightly, into socks. But it could also find itself knitted into a pair of Genmaicha fingerless gloves, or even a lacy Forest Canopy Shawl. And Malabrigo, sigh, what can’t you make with MMMalabrigo? Choices, I love choices.
And boy do I have choices, as I discovered while recently updating my Ravelry Stash (that wonderfully, evilly addictive Ravelry! My savior and my undoing). Looking at the piles on the floor and couch, all around me, in fact, I realized I had a lot of yarn. More than I thought I had. Honestly, I seem to have a worse problem with mass accumulation of fibery goodness than most knitters, but not the worst case I’ve seen. Even so, sheesh, there really was a lot. And I love every single skein in there with all my heart. I guess I must admit I am a bonifide yarnaholic.
Well, God bless her, I say. I wish I could be a little more like her. And like a little shoulder angel, she does keep me in line. However, I’m gonna choose one of my BFFs like Laura or Meg to go with me to any Stitches Events, that’s for dang sure.
That rant all said, with the
way the economy’s been going, and my jewelry business feeling the sag in spending, I must say I have a comfort in knowing that no matter what, even if I can’t justify (or afford) stalking another skein of Malabrigo, there’s yarn waiting for me in the guest room closet. Soft and saturated with colors that make my heart sing and my hands happy, it’s there. Waiting to be used for entertainment, relaxation, and let us not forget, clothing.
Yay for my stash! I think I’ll go pet it.