No, no, don’t look so alarmed. It’s my usual method of working through things.
The good news is studies show people who talk themselves through various steps tend to get more done in less time with better results. It’s called “self-coaching.” (Yes, that’s my story and I’m sticking to it.)
The bad news is sometimes I do it in public and people look at me … strangely.
What am I muttering and nuttering about this week? Yarn, of course.
Icky, horrible, recalcitrant, pastel acrylic yarn, in fact. It’s been in the stash for more than a few years. I bought it to make a plaid sweater for my niece. (Actually, she’s my cousin’s granddaughter, but I think of her as my niece/goddaughter, so that’s what counts, right?)
Picture the few hundred yards it takes to knit a toddler-sized sweater. (I have no photo, but if I can find it, I'll upload my sketch.) Now picture the 2000 yards, plus or minus, left over after the sweater was finished.
But I really, really dislike working with this yarn. It’s splitty and non-elastic and prone to tangles. Annoying. Quite perversely, no matter how much I knit, the pile of half-used skeins never seems to diminish. (Could it be possible some yarns are self-propagating?)
This year is about knitting from stash. While it’s a budget-worthy move, it’s more about knitter’s logic. So much yarn, too little space. I want more yarn, so I’m destashing to free up space. For more yarn. Others may not understand, but I know you do.
This horrible yarn is hogging valuable space that could be occupied by superfine merino or a cashmere-silk blend or a good, solid superwash merino.
So, I’ve been talking to myself, rattling through various get-it-gone options. Knit more hats? Make a baby blanket? Knock out a child-sized sweater?
And then I said it. Out loud. “Maybe, I should just throw it away.”
My first reaction was, that’s unthinkable! You can’t throw away perfectly good, usable yarn. My second reaction was, why not?
Stay tuned, I just may do the unthinkable ...