As a rule, I’m not very good with self-discipline. Knitting is good for me in this way; for some reason, I can force myself to sit down a finish a project without a problem. I guess if there was a test one could take to decide if they really, truly enjoyed a hobby it would look something like this: get locked in a room with the tools of your craft and attempt to keep yourself entertained for as many consecutive hours as possible. If you go crazy, test failed. If you’re surprised when someone opens the door to offer you your freedom back, then you’re sufficiently obsessed.
Some of us happen to be masochistic enough to create craft prisons in our own homes. I call mine the Knitting Cave. There’s an entire room in my house I can lock myself away in and let the hours slip away while I roll around in wool and yarn like Scrooge McDuck. Not only do I not want to leave the room, I don’t want anyone to enter. Just leave me alone in my fiber corner of the world where I can craft away the days of my existence in peace.
In an effort to become more realistic and have more than just vault of yarn to leave my children in 50+ years, I’m going to be doing something crazy for the first eight months of 2014: I will not be purchasing yarn until Stitches Midwest.
I came to this decision unexpectedly after taking an inventory and documenting my stash so I could share it with the Ravelry community. I started by dumping out every basket onto a table, and the result looked a little something like this:
The pile of good intentions and missed IRA contributions.
At first I was really excited to see it in all it’s glory – and it was a blast to photograph. However, as I separated the yarn by type and color so they could be inventoried, I made the mistake of adding up all of the yardage just to see how much of it I exactly had.
15, 968 yarns or 9.1 miles. Over 1/3 of a marathon. I could snake this yarn through the streets of Chicago to my office at work and back home again, and still have enough to make a sweater. Yikes.
Most of the skeins still had a price tag on them, and I refused to start doing the math. I know it’s all been collected over the last six years, and I have some wonderful memories within the pile about different projects, friends, and yarn shops I’ve had the opportunity to visit since I began my knitting journey in 2008. I really wouldn’t trade any of it if I could, but I don’t want to continue being distracted by decaying intentions.
Maybe it’s just the time of year, but I’m really on an “out-with-the-old”/”tying-up-loose-ends” kick. I just want to finish all the amazing projects and give the yarn a permanent installation into objects of enjoyment instead of just some string in a basket.
This will go hand-in-hand with my saving of left over change within my knitting piggy bank to help finance my purchases in 2014. I have eight months of knitting with fabulous yarns along with saving the change from my coffee purchase each morning (and afternoon and evening, but that’s a resolution for another year).
I did go through the process of photographing each yarn skein (or siblings) individually. Here’s a collage of my favorite pictures for your enjoyment:
I hope everyone had a fantastic New Year celebration and is enjoying any R&R time they have today exactly the way they want to.
I’m thinking about starting a 2014 stash knit-down group and swap, would anyone be interested? How about your knitting resolutions for the year?
About Hunter Liam
Hunter's grandmother had him making buttons and threading her sewing machine at the age of three. Ever since then, he's been obsessed with making things with his hands as a form of creative expression.Knitter, spinner, designer, writer, photographer, dancer . . . or just a creative soul with ADD.