I love buying yarn. Actually, I love acquiring yarn. I like getting yarn as a gift (most of the time, although I vastly prefer yarn that was produced sometime during this century). There are lots of different reasons to have a yarn stash, but I can only speak for myself when I say that a stash is so exciting because it represents so much potential.

Having finished objects (and WIPs) is enjoyable, too, but it’s different. Once you’ve knit up yarn, it becomes a thing. And it will probably stay that thing, and then it will be worn and used; it will become less pristine, and develop pills and fuzz; it may shrink or felt or wear holes or fade or any number of fates that befall the things you don. For example, I love my Ringwood gloves to death, and I have been grateful to have them time and again this winter. But even though they’re superwash wool, they’ve been getting noticeably fuzzy.

Yarn though, as long as it is stored in a manner where it remains clean and free of pests, can become any number of things you dream. It’s like looking at a nursery full of sleeping newborn babies: they will grow up to go in any number of different directions; some will be leaders, some will be criminals, most will become average workaday citizens; they will each develop their own personalities and have their own experiences and gather their own knowledge; and eventually, they will all begin to age, their bodies breaking down and their faculties abandoning them; and eventually, they will be gone.

But in that moment, as you gaze upon them in their innocent slumber, each of them could be anything. They could rule the world, if they wanted to.

This is how normal people feel about babies, and since I don’t really have that feeling for babies, I have that feeling about yarn. So I collect it, and I do work through it, but my acquisition rate seems to be outpacing my consumption. As long as I have the funds and the space for it, I will remain unashamed of the tower of totes in my craft room. I can always resell it if I need to, and I will never have to buy it new shoes.

Anyway, I have been meaning to take some pictures of it, in the spirit of the Flash Your Stash threads I see occasionally on Rav, so here it is, unsheathed and laid bare for my own strange enjoyment.

WIPsWIPs, most of which are in hibernation. The pink socks to the left are the only active project.

laceLace, probably the smallest amount. It’s not that I’m intimidated by the concept of lace weight, it’s just that I’d rather use skinny yarn on socks.

fingeringFingering, which is what I have the most of. (Too much to fit onto the card table, even with the duplicates stacked up.) My first instinct whenever I go into a new LYS is to look at the sock yarn. But I also have some cones of fingering I plan to use for sweaters, just in case I ever get tired of making socks.

fingering storageStorage of fingering. I like to keep the stuff that’s caked separate from the stuff that’s skeined or commercially balled, because I did have it all together and it was an ungodly mess. I used to have the bad habit of caking all yarn as soon as I bought it, but I’ve kind of gotten away from that, and only use the ball winder when I’m planning to start a project.

I also have two projects on deck:

  • Ginger and Wasabi gloves, which I swatched for and everything. I don’t strictly need more gloves, as I have both my beloved Ringwoods and After the Rain mittens. But the Ringwoods get so much wear that I have to shave them regularly, so they need a bit of a break sometimes. And I am slightly embarrassed by the mittens, because one is six stitches smaller than the other, because I am a doofus.
  • The Architect of Rivendell, which I already attempted for the Underappreciated Patterns challenge of the February SKA KAL, but once I turned the heel and tried them on, the socks were way too small. I added a few stitches in, reworked the charts, and I’m going to try the pattern again in March. Fortunately, they also work for the March theme, which is Inspired by Architecture.

sportSport weight.

worsted aranWorsted/aran. Don’t have a whole lot of this, but most of what I have in large quantities is worsted weight. I’ve got several sweaters I want to make (and one on the needles) but I have such a short attention span.

bulky superbulkyThe chunky stuff. Rarely use this, but it’s nice for when I want some instant gratification. The Martha Stewart Roving, I haven’t yet decided if I want to knit it up as is and felt it, or try and draft it out some and spin it into something thinner.

cotton tarnCotton and tarn. I rarely use cotton, and most of the stuff that’s here was steeply discounted (I bought at least half a dozen balls of Peaches & Cream when I saw it at Dollar Tree a couple years ago). As far as the tarn, I was thinking of making a crocheted rug, but I’m pretty sure I used up most of my patience with t-shirt yarn in the process of making it.

to be dyedThe To Be Dyed pile. Every once in a while I get a hankering to play with the food coloring. This is stored in a separate bin and not separated by yarn weight.

fiberFiber stash. Small, which is fine, because I only have one “real” spindle anyway. (The one I made is incredibly wobbly.)

unholyAnd finally, this crap. Bought a bag with a dozenish balls of Patons Divine at a thrift shop, thinking I’d make a garter stitch blanket or something, but this stuff is a royal pain to knit with. I don’t want to put it in with the proper stash, because I don’t want it getting too comfortable. (I haven’t even put it on my Rav stash page.) One of these days I’ll just get wise and give it away.

Anyway, having spent the last hour arranging and photographing my lovely stash, I’ve got a serious itch to play with it. I’ll be spinning if anyone needs me, or if anyone doesn’t.