As most of you know, I have vowed to knit only yarn from the stash for a whole year. I will not be spending one single cent on yarn until 2012.
This is a very good goal, both for my brain and my budget.
And, so far, I have enjoyed the challenge. When one must knit only stash yarn, she finds that she must use a greater amount of creativity than if she could just buy yarn fitting to the project she desires to knit. It is fun to make it work. It is stretching me. Plus, I have so many nice yarns that I am happy to use up. I really don’t need to get any more yarn. The stash is full of lovelies that are yearning to be crafted into the next work of art.
But, this has also had a less than desirable affect on me.
You see, I am generally a very generous person:
You’re out of tea? Oh, no, we can’t have that. Here is 1/4 lb of Earl Grey to get you by.
No row counter? How do you keep track? I have three – take one, please.
You want to learn to knit? I have plenty of needles and yarn. Pick one. I’ll teach you with good needles and soft wool.
And, I am an enabler.
Want to try Malabrigo? Feel this. Nice huh? Knit a little of it. Now, I have you hooked.
Sure, it may have cost me a skien or two, but I am more than happy to spread the wooly love around. If I have it, it is yours. No problem.
Until now. A strange stinginess has come over me. I want every yard. Every inch. I have none to spare. This stash has to last me the year, and I may not have enough. Get your own. Especially the Malabrigo.
I guess that means that I am not really all that generous. True generosity is selfless, isn’t it? True generosity would give you my last skien of Madelintosh. True generosity wouldn’t hide the laceweight when you mention a desire to knit a shawl.
I set out to save money and use up what I have. And I have turned into a greedy, yarn hoarder. Or, maybe I always was a greedy, yarn hoarder. But now the mask is off and I have been shown a side of myself that definitely needs some work.
Maybe I will work on it next year…