me â¦
THAT THE KNITTING MUSES
HAVE AN EXCELLENT, IF CRUEL,
SENSE OF HUMOR.
the 11 th thing
good things come in small
packages.
LIKE MOST ARTISTS , I support my work with an extensive and varied collection of the materials I use to create. Picasso had paint; Michelangelo had marble; Mozart had piano, pen, and paper. As a knitter, I have yarn.
Now, Iâm way past feeling bad about how much yarn I have. I used to think I had âtoo much.â For a while, I even tried going on a yarn diet to try to lose a few pounds of fiber, but the truth is that my heart was never truly in it. Really, I was just saying all the things I think non-knitters want to hear. Weâve all been there. They want us to acknowledge that we have too much yarn, to admit that weâre out of control and that we should have less. They talk to us about
obsession
and
hoarding.
They fail to see the big picture.
The way I see it, the big picture is that painters have paint and canvas, gardeners have plantsand acreage, carpenters have wood and tools â and even if you want to think of knitting as a hobby rather than an art form, golfers have clubs, golf balls, carts, green fees, memberships, and entire golf weekends for their hobby.
Once I put my collection of yarn into perspective, I realized I didnât care what people thought. I really didnât. I cared whether or not I had room for yarn (spiritually and literally), I cared about whether or not I could afford it, and when I ordered that big box of fancy wool from Germany, I even went so far as to consider my daughterâs possible feelings about my intention to store it in her closet. (I admit I would have considered it for a longer time or more in her favor if sheâd ever cleaned a closet, but I digress.) I took a good look at the stash, and I realized that I wasnât hurting anyone, that I wasnât spending money I didnât have, and that I certainly wasnât spending more on yarn than the golfer down the street was spending on his golf trips, and I stopped feeling bad about it. Not only did I stop feeling bad, I started buying yarn whenever I took a fancy to.
I must admit that removing the element of guilt about having so much of the thing I love has increased the influx of it somewhat, but I donât mind. This is the stuff my art, my hobby, and my life is made of, and Iâm just not going to support the idea that having a lot of wool is a crushing, world-important issue worth discussing with non-knitters. This is the yarn Iâll have for the rest of my life. It turns out that knitting has taught me that good things come in all sizes, and the size doesnât matter, as long as youâre happy with what youâve got.
Now, where Iâm going to put it all â thatâs certainly open for debate.
the 12 th thing
Three men can keep a secret
if two of them are dead.
IT IS A WELL-KNOWN FACT that there are some secrets that are just too juicy for anybody to keep. For example, thereâs no chance that your neighbor and her husband can take up nude bathing in their backyard pool and reasonably expect that the neighbors with a clear view are going to be able to keep it to themselves at the next community barbecue. Itâs just too good not to tell. Similarly, you simply never can tell two knitting friends about a huge yarn sale and expect they wonât pass along the good news to two more (or twelve) of their favorite knitters. Itâs not reasonable. go to the sale and get what you want before you spill the beans.
Secrecy is a delicate thing, and while friendships are a sacred trust ⦠half price merino is going to be a deal breaker.
the 13 th thing
Practice makes perfect.
UPSTAIRS IN MY HOUSE , in the very back of the linen closet, behind the sheets and towels, are several pieces of my old knitting. They are in the back, packed up tight where people (including me) are unlikely to see them. They are terrible â