the burden of the stash

Maybe I should have called this blog 'the yarn stash' because sometimes I feel like my yarn stash is the overdriving force in my life.

A few weeks ago, as I was putting away clean laundry, I realized that with nearly every item a thought along the lines of 'I really don't like this' arose in my mind during the folding. At about the same time, I came to a realization that as much as I love knitting lace and looking at knitted lace and feeling like an accomplished knitter when I finish knitting lace, the fact is that I don't have much occasion to actually wear knitted lace. And I don't do the kind of housekeeping one must do to keep lace doilies and antimacassars and curtains looking good.

I assessed my feelings of being completely dissatisfied with my current wardrobe (aside: this has to do with buying cheap clothes and gaining 20 pounds in the last year, so most of the clothes that I at least like don't fit, so I needed different clothes that fit, but I didn't want to spend much money, hence the dissatisfaction) and combined that with an analysis of the yarn I have accumulated over the last 15-20 years and concluded that, if I focus, I do have the wherewithal to create some actual garments that I actually would like to wear without actually spending any more money. (Or maybe a s'kosh for the occasional knitting needle.)

And so it came to pass that I began to focus on creating garments rather than shawls, doilies and curtains. I do intend to incorporate lace insets, sleeves, and what-not into the garments I'm designing and creating, but the mint-green Ogee shawl has been set aside once again. Although, come to think of it - I think maybe I could make it into a curtain and call it (almost) finished! Hmmm, I'll have to think more about that.

Meanwhile, I designed and knit a vest out of some off-white cotton chenille that I've had since about 1995 - a project that took about three weeks start to finish. (I do believe it is by far the fastest I have actually completed something knitted, and that includes design time!) Now, I'm well into a hooded tunic that I'm adapting from a pattern in the Spring/Summer 1999 Vogue Knitting. (Adaptation required because the yarn on hand doesn't quite match the yarn used in the magazine project.)

The thing is - if I didn't have this stash of yarn, I would feel much more free to just keep knitting lace, nevermind that I'd never wear it, or put it on a table or whatever. The stash (well, the part that's not laceweight) has become both a resource and an obstacle. And until six words ago, I didn't think the word 'resource' would be how I'd describe it. But actually that's what it is. Is it possible that in this little essay I have come to terms with my stash?