A couple of days ago I had 40 (yes, really) skeins of yarn delivered to me at work. A guy there on work experience cast a quizzical (though, to be fair, non-judgmental) look and a co-worker kindly explained "She knits".
I bounded through the office, gleefully hugging the squishy stash of Jamieson's Heather Aran, with the added bonus that it had been on sale at a $1 a skein (I know, that should be a pound sign but this keyboard has a mind of its own and normally the fact that it likes to swap symbols and keys around with wild abandon wouldn't be an issue, I simply hunt for the schizophrenic key that has decided to become a pound sign, but in this instance it has eluded me - as far as I can tell no key, no combination of shift-influenced keys, no F5/alt/del wizardry can induce any of these keys into producing a pound sign. My computer tends to run a little hot and the prospect of it spontaneously combusting is not outside the realm of possibility, so I am loathe to antagonise it. I simply mutter under my breath, become increasingly frustrated and call it HAL when I think it's not listening. And don't even get me started on my non-existent modem signal...)
Sorry. A Rant appears to have snuck in there (isn't snuck a marvellous word?). Back to the good stuff.
So the lovely Jamieson's in Fern (a brighter green than the name suggests) and Fresco (a daft name for a great shade of greyish moss green) is destined for the festive season. One batch will be the sweater project for this year (not telling for whom) and the other well, to be honest, I'm plotting how I can syphon off most of it for an entirely selfish idea for me. Fortunately, I reckon there's enough for me to make several presents and then use the rest in a guilt-free woolfest for myself.
Naturally, my colleagues were a little bemused by my excitement so thank god for the Hoxton Knitters (that's the Hoxton-based knitting night, not some group of people I've claimed in a weird bout of self-promotion) who could share in my joy at the woolly yumminess and delight in my thrifty find. My family are kindly tolerant of my obssession and have no problem with knitting but nevertheless they don't knit and therefore they don't get it. Same with my friends at work. Which is fine, it's just so nice to spend some time with friendly folk who do get it. These are people who, when you're talking about how nice it would be to have money and not have to work, agree that the best part would be all the time you would have to knit. And you can say it and no one looks at you like you're slightly barmy. Instead they all nod enthusiastically and join in the wool-based fantasy.
They also understand the fact that you can never have enough yarn. It doesn't matter that I have 12 huge balls of tweed in three different colourways waiting to be used. Or a couple of balls of alpaca. Or a huge amount of Rowanspun that I should really frog from an ugly half-finished sweater and put to better use. A good analogy for non-knitters (or at least female ones) would be shoes - same principle applies: there's no such thing as too many.
So, if you do not knit, imagine you have just found the perfect pair of killer heels, and they fit you exactly, and they match your favourite dress, and they give you legs the length of Erin O'Connor's, and they were on SALE.
And now you can share in my joy at 40 skeins of yarn.