The Importance of a Yarn Stash

Every serious knitter/crocheter has to have a yarn stash.  It's a must - for every self-respecting knitter/crocheter, that is.

And I most definitely am a self-respecting knitter/crocheter.  Very.

The size of the stash separates the hard core knitters/crocheters from the "others".

The bigger the stash, the more hard core you are.  

That being the case, I am hard core.  Certifiably hard core.  

Certifiably hard core.  

I have enough yarn stashed in bins in my basement to keep me busy for a very very long time.  I can't die anytime soon.  I have way too much yarn and too many projects to complete before that can happen.

Stash happens when there is leftover pieces of yarn from a project or too many skeins of yarn bought for one project.

Stash also happens when the crafter goes to to a yarn store whether it be Michaels i.e. a chain store, a local boutique yarn store, a knitters' fair, Mary Maxims or my favourite, the Spinrite Factory Outside annual tent sale.

Any place where the there's lots and lots and lots of yarn to tempt the eyes.

On the side of this post are pictures of various aspects of my stash.  I have all kinds of yarn:  worsted weight, baby yarn, sock yarn, dk weight, novelty yarn, bulky weight, lace weight, ribbon.  You name it, I probably have it.

There's acrylic, wool/wool blends, cotton, linen, silk ....

And colours.  Lots of various colours. Soft pastel baby colours.  Bold brights.  Cream, white, black, grey, brown for neutral effects.

However,  while what you see may look like a mess, a waste of money, even a woman with a severe yarn hoarding problems, what I see when I look at all these balls of yarns is something different.

I see lots of projects just waiting for that magical moment when creation happens.

Inside those bins, lurked the prayer shawl above which I made for a friend whose Mom had been diagnosed with cancer.  This project was not only made entirely from my stash but started out with the yarn left over from her mom's prayer shaw.

Then there's the large granny square afghan I started when a friend gave me what was supposed to be the beginning of a baby blanket for a friend's baby.  She ran out of yarn too soon and we traded - her unfinished square for one of my finished projects - also created from my stash.  I finished this afghan from bits and pieces from my own stash only purchasing enough yarn of the lavender colour (which originally came from my stash).

And there's one of my personal favourites: a "prayerghan" made for a Syrian refugee family in our area made almost entirely (but not quite) from my stash.  I started with an idea and what I call a "recipe" and let my mind, needles, hands and imagination go from there.

Personally, I don't know what I'd do without my stash.

More reading maybe?

Sometimes it's easier - and faster - to knit 40-60 rows of garter stitch then to do 10 rows of a more complicated pattern.   A pattern which requires thinking.  Cognitive abilities.

Cognitive abilities which have at times gone AWOL - or the current wording Absent Without Leave - without warning or giving me a forwarding address.  No ETA of when they might return either.

When that happens, I'm left to my own desires and devices ... er ... coping techniques.

One of my coping techniques in this ongoing journey of recovery from workplace abuse is that when one thing doesn't work, I try something else.

When the mind can't seem to follow the directions, the pattern, and I'm doing more tinking (unknitting) then knitting.

When the project is resisting me at every turn.  When I'm moving backward faster than I am forward.  When I'm getting frustrated - which happens easily post workplace abuse.  Discouraged too.  Both of which happen easily these days.  And more frequently than I would like.

So I put that work aside - either temporarily or long-term - and either pick up something else on my WIP (Works in Process) pile or start something new.  Something in my stash.  Something very easy.  Something ... well ... something like this work scarf pictured on the left.

Something brainless.  Mindless.  Soothing.  Something with few cognitive skills required.

Which is why when I looked at this Fisherman's Crochet baby blanket which has been a WIP for years now, determined to pick it up and finish it off, my mind looked at it and said:  "No way, Jose.  I'm NOT doing this.  And without me, you aren't either."

I should interject at some point that working on this intricate afghan has been like starting over - even though I've done it once before, even though I knew, at some point in time, how to do all these stitches, this project has fought me tooth and nail.  Every time I started a new part of the pattern, a different stitch, I could not successfully do it until after several failed tries and you-tubing a tutorial on the stitch.  Talk about frustration.

This blanket is approximately 2/3 way done.  I'm ready to start the second panel of the diamond stitch you can see in the picture.  The problem with this blanket is that although I've made it once before and am an experienced crocheter, with the cognitive deficits post workplace abuse, making this blanket has been almost like starting new.  From the beginning.  Which has been ... concerning ... frustrating ....

So I picked up this kit I'd bought previously and decided what the heck! let's go.  Let's start it.  Even though another new project is exactly what I don't need at this time with others waiting to be finished. Yet I don't have to finish it.  I only have to start it and work on it until the needles do their magical, soothing work.  I must have been really down for the count mentally/brain wise because a week later I completely finished this 5-6 scarf.

A 1x1 rib (see! I've learned to successfully speak knitting too! Along with Canadian and American English with a smattering of Scottish English thrown in for good measure), it's not as mindless as straight garter or even stockinette (one row knit, one row purl) would be, but it has it's own rhythm.

A soothing rhythm once I get into the groove.

And it works!

That's the purpose of the exercise - of knitting.  It's my right brain activity.  It's my port in a storm.  It's what I do when I can't do much of anything else.

And it works.

And I have a brand new hand made scarf all ready for spring ... or what's considered spring here in Canada.  Bonus!

I Love to Create ...

... but I hate to tie in the ends.

Latest (unfinished) creation - star-shaped afghan made out of leftovers from other projects

After the creation, after the right brain activity calms the brain and allows healing to proceed comes the hard part, the cognitive part.  The part where all the ends have to be woven into the finished garment so it won't unravel when washed.  The part where the seams have to be sewn up in such a way, it looks seamless.  The part where the fringe has to be made.  The part that makes the garment whole.  The part the garment cannot be complete without.

Another unfinished proejct - youth size Noah's Ark afghan for great-niece who just became a big sister

And therein, lies the problem.  Give me the hook.  Give me the needles and yarn.  Give me a pattern or even an idea - and I'm a happy camper.  

Years ago, in a difficult work situation which sucked all the energy out of me, I realized that I was happiest when I was crocheting so my ever-lovin', long-sufferin' Papa Bear drove me to Mary Maxim's in Paris, Ontario.  

If you're a crafter, you know all about Mary Maxim's.  If you're not ... well, I feel sorry for you.

He looked the other way as I picked out a basket full of yarns and possible craft projects and headed for the check out.

He looked the other way when the total was announced.

He may not be a hooker, needler or crafter but he supported me all the way.

Baby Noah's Ark afghan (still waiting for finishing touches) for new great nephew
Hope he's not graduating from high school by the time I finish it

And so I crafted.  If you were having a baby, I was your woman for a baby blanket as that was what I was focusing on at the time.

BUT after the crafting, after the creation comes the hard part.  The finishing.

The two blankets above, one youth, the other baby, are made with loose ends on both sides because of the distinctive crochet technique used.  That blanket has to be finished or it will fall apart.  Which is not a good thing.  Definitely not a good thing.

Fingerless gloves.  Needing to be sewn up.

I have spent the last week procrastinating on finishing those blankets.  In fact, I was so caught up in the procrastinating and creating that I've actually almost finished another afghan (the first picture) for the adults involved (so everyone in the family will have their own "special" blankie to curl on in - adults need special loving too, you know).  which will also need to be tied in.  Finished.  It's an on-going vicious cycle in my world.

I think I resent the finishing part because it takes valuable time away from the creating.  Also because it involves thinking.  Left brain activity.

The left brain complains saying:  "I hurt.  I'm still recovering.  Leave me be."  But I can't.  I need it too. It has needed - and still needs - a rest.  But it also needs to know that it's OK to be the left brain. Cognitive has it's good parts too.

So today, I will leave you with that thought and pick up the threads to finish these projects.

Unfinished edge

See you later, hopefully with pictures of the finished products ready to box up and mail.

Until then, enjoy life - whatever form yours takes - to the fullest.

"Knitting ...

... is not who you are," were the words from a woman, a minister, I had invited into my private place, my safe place.  The birthplace of my knit and crochet creations.  The place where I can be "me" in all my disabilities - and all my creativeness.

My wall of scarves

It had been an extremely rough half year.  My mom had died.  My relationship with my only sibling had taken a disturbing downturn.  All the PTSD and stress affects had gone off the roof.  No energy.  No motivation.  Overwhelmed by even the simplest tasks.  Unable to perform even the simplest tasks of living.

Yet, even in my grief and despair, there was still one thing I could do (besides sleep).  I could knit.

Even when the energy was very low and the cognitive skills were barely there, I could still knit.  One row forward; one row back.

Initially, after I returned from my mom's funeral, I discovered that reading patterns and following instructions was way beyond my abilities.  BUT, there was always the one row forward and the one row back.  The twirley scarves.

I always seem to have an abundance of them.  After mom died, I put that stash to good use.  Over the course of the last year when I had been able to visit my mom for a week at a time rather than a rushed weekend visit, I had gotten to know many of the assorted staff members from the aides to the nurses even to some of the administrative staff.

Mom had been a resident at the enriched seniors housing facility for seven years - and had been loved by many of the staff.  After her passing, I went back with a bagful of scarves and passed them out to those who had in some way blessed us during those seven years - especially during those last two weeks when the energizer bunny slowly ran down.

Coming home, my stash depleted, my abilities and cognitive skills down for the count, rebuilding my stash was the one activity I could do.  The one that kept me sane in an otherwise insane world.

Slowly, very slowly, my mind began to heal as the scarves flowed through my fingers.

Then I got challenged during one of my bi-weekly visits to my favorite yarn store.  I saw a hat.  A beret.  A slouchy beret.  I didn't want the one I saw on display.  I wanted to make one!  I wanted to create again.

With encouragement from my friendly mentor, I selected yarn and pattern.  Then the fun began.

I had used circular needles but only for flat pieces.  Now I was using them in a ... well ... a circle which was a challenge in and off itself.  Following the design was the hardest part of the challenge - which I accepted.  I knitted.  I ripped.  I started again.  I tinked (knit backwards which means "unknit" in layman's terms).  I used markers and row counters.  And I persevered.  Until it came time to close the circle - since I've never seen a hat with an open top.  To decrease stitches.  Here is where a new learning experience came in.  Learning to knit with double ended crowbars.  Oops!  I mean needles.  But they sure felt like crowbars to me.  They felt twelve feet long and at least a foot wide!  (see photos on left for real dimensions).

And here is where I leave the post for today.  With healing slowly beginning accompanied by the rhythmic click of the needles.

Knitting is not whom I am.

It's what I do.

It's how I heal.

More next time.

One Stitch at a Time

This week's projects on the go - one crochet; three knit

This entire adventure called knitting began with an impulsive walk into a yarn store one day and then progressed into learning how to knit.  Basic knitting.  Eight stitches one way; eight stitches back.  Over and over again watching the scarf yarn twirl itself below my needles.  Watching the yarn twirl itself around and around, watching the colours flow and the scarf take shape were fascinating to me.  I couldn't get enough of it.

I call them "twirley scarves" for that reason.  Simple knitting.  That's all it took to make these gorgeous "twirley" scarves.  That's all it took - besides the yarn.  And, oh!, it turned out that there were all kinds of scarf yarns in all price ranges.  And the colours!  From solid pinks and blues to varigated yarns in wild colours.  I had to try them all out.  And while I didn't get to try them all out as new ones are coming on the market all the time, I made a good stab at it.  In just a few months, I had more than enough for Christmas presents for all the ladies on my list plus a yarn stash for me projects.

But what about the men?  None of the men on my list would dare wear a "twirley" scarf.   Nope.  They would definitely want something more masculine.  At that point, more masculine wasn't going to happen.  They got chocolate for Christmas that yarn.  One size fits all.

Then there's the added dilemma that my mind always seems to be working - in one way or another.  At least with knitting, it's working on what the next project might look like rather than on what happened in the past.   I was continually looking at people's heads, necks, hands, whatever to see what they wore - and if it was handmade.  Always insecure, I felt like I could never go any further than where I was - and that challenged me.  I wanted to be able to knit more than just the scarves.  I wanted to knit.  Really knit.  I wanted to knit he-man type things for those men in my life.

So, I found a mentor in the yarn shop in Stratford.  After my bi-weekly counselling sessions, I would drop by and get help. My friendly mentor helped me select my projects.  Sold me yarn and patterns.  Encouraged me.  Praised my efforts.  Corrected my mistakes.  Gave me helpful hints.

From her, I learned a new word and a new "technique":  tinking.  The word "tink" is simply knit backwards and that's exactly what tinking is:  knitting backwards - or rather unknitting.  Works a lot better than ripping out because with knitting using two needles, if you rip your work out, you have to somehow get it - all of it - back on the needles.  I found that needles can be very uncooperative.  With tinking, you keep all your stitches on the needles and simply knit - or rather unknit - backwards.   Simple.  Well, kind of.  Especially after you've done it a couple of hundred times.

My first few attempts at going deeper into knitting rather then simply knitting back and forth created more angst than they relieved.  The exact opposite of the purpose of using knitting for right brain activity.  My mentor acquainted me with such  handy-dandy accessories as  counters and stitch markers - and how to use them most effectively in addition to the previously mentioned tinking, thereby showing me ways to forge ahead and relieve the stress.

She mentored me through my first projects of a cabled cowl.  Soon followed by a cable scarf.

Followed by a herringbone scarf.

I learned something new with each new project; each new skill.  My confidence increased.

I learned that when learning a new stitch to buy a less expensive yarn to work on the first piece, thereby causing less damage to the fabric of the yarn by repeated ripping out and starting all over again.

I also learned to practice the stitch on dishcloths and dish towels thus learning a new skill while at the same time making something practical to give away and bless someone with at a later time.  As a result, I have a basketful of knit "blessings", i.e. dishcloths, to give away.

As I write these words, my mind automatically goes to the colours, the patterns, the possible next project.  My accumulated stash of yarn and patterns.

What will I attempt next?

Only the mind knows.

And it's not telling ....