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?

A clothes line ...

... of finished (finally) projects ...
.

All finished
(from left to right)  youth size Noah's Ark, adult size star-shaped afghan made from leftovers of youth afghan and the one that started it all - baby size Noah's Ark

proudly displaying - for all the backyard to enjoy - the result of my recent efforts and endeavours.  The many enjoyable hours spend creating these projects (which are now in the mail to their recipients) and the not so enjoyable hours spent doing the drudge work, the work of weaving in the ends, making the fringe, etc.  

Of coursse, the backyard is mostly inhabited by birds doing flyovers, squirrels foraging for whatever they forage for - mostly my spring bulbs,  rabbits intent on nibbling away the bark on my tender trees, groundhogs and the occasion raccoon and/or skunk.  Not really the best audience for this incredible display of beauty - but the best I could do on short notice.

I am proud of these creations.  Inordinately proud.  They've been a challenge from start to finish.

Crocheting and knitting are right-brain activities but they also contain some left-brain elements.

Like reading the pattern.  Following the pattern.

With a brain that has been exhibiting fluctuating characteristics of brain injury, reading and following instructions can be problematic.  Also challenging.

And then there's the finishing....

On the two Noah's Ark afghans, the technique is such that if you get one stitch wrong, the whole pattern goes out of wack.  The crafter is literally creating a picture,  row by row, reading a diagram.  Creating something with yarn and hook out of thin air.  There is no tapestry to weave into.  No paper to paint on.  The picture literally forms row by row.  Out of thin air.   At first in each segment, it seems like a mess.  Like nothing beautiful or recognizable can ever come from this.  But as row builds upon row, the picture comes out.  Slowly.  Beautifully.

I love to watch the picture form beneath my fingers.

But I also feel frustrated when the mind won't cooperate with the fingers.  When the pattern comes out wrong.

At those times, I (wisely) choose to put the project down for a brief time. To focus on something (anything) else.  As long as it's right-brain, I mean.

For me that may mean a DVD.  Or a Sudoku puzzle.  Or a fresh (easy) project.

I've learned to keep more than one project on the go at any given time.  Especially at least one that is mostly right-brain for those moments when the left leaves the room entirely.  Knitting back and forth, back and forth or crocheting in a simple pattern.  Letting the rhythm of the needles (or hook) sooth my battered soul and emotions.

Of the three pictured on the clothesline above, can you guess which was the right brain one?  With all the colours, it may appear complicated but really it wasn't.  Simply crocheting around and around in a star-shape adding a new colour as an old one ended, using up the leftovers from two previous works (of art).

Hope your day is filled with good right-brained activity - and just enough left-brained to keep things interesting.

"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 ....

Knitting as Right Brain Activity

Someone had fun - and let their right brain go crazy - with this lamp post in Conway, South Carolina

 For those of us dealing with trauma and PTSD, one of the best ways to cope - and eventually - heal is through right-brain activity.

Our left brains - the logical part of us; the part that keeps trying to make sense of things that don't make sense - goes into overdrive.  Continually active.  Nagging at us.  Keeping us awake at night.  Tormenting us.

The right brain is the opposite.  The creative part of us.  The part we need to allow to take over in times of stress and trauma to soothe us and allow emotional healing to take place.

There are many activities which are considered right brain activity:  knitting (and the other creative arts) being one of them; reading; photography.  Anything that does not involve logical thinking or problem solving.  Knitting (and the related art of crocheting) are what I've chosen as my pre-eminent right brain activities:  those which help keep me sane in an insane world.

Before I learned to knit, I crocheted.  Now I do both.  It's not uncommon for me to have two, three or even four projects on the go at any given time.  Right now, I have two pairs of fingerless gloves on the needles and a baby afghan on a hook so I can mix it up a bit.  If I get bored with one for a period of time, then I can switch to one of the others.  Or even start up a new one.

It's a knitting thing, I believe.  Real knitters move from one project to another and back again.  Real knitters sit back and go with the flow.

I discovered the difference between the left brain and the right during the aforementioned severely stressful situation when my therapist suggested I read the book Invisible Heroes:  Survivors of Trauma and How They Heal by Belleruth Naparstek.  I was expecting stories about trauma victims and their survival stories.  Instead, the book was about this psychotherpapist's work with trauma victims and what she learned through her experience including how she changed her therapeutic model and techniques based on her work and research.

She discovered the use of right brain activity, specifically affirmations and guided meditation, to be especially helpful in the healing/recovery process.  She gives examples of both.

For me, right brain activity is not just confined to affirmations and guided meditation - or I would be doing those activities pretty well 7/24 some days.  For me, it's the art of creation.  Seeing the work in progress.  Watching something beautiful come from a mere string of yarn.  Covering myself with the completed afghan.  Wrapping the warm, comforting shawl around my shoulders like giving myself a soft hug.  Feeliing the different fibres of yarn beneath my fingers.  Hearing the soft click clack of the needles rubbing against each other.

Definitely a sensory experience.  Then add music to the mix. Soft music.  Celtic music.  Classical.  Praise.  Whatever.  Add to that, a safe you consider to be your safe place.  If you don't have one, create one.  Fill it with your favorite right-brain things.  Mine is filled with yarn, patterns, DVD's, CD's, my computer.  A heater to keep me warm.  A fan to keep me cool.  A phone.  My rocker.  Books.  Various completed projects.

Everything I need when my emotions are in a jangle.  When the thoughts assail and torment me.

Everything I need to regain equilibrium and peace.

My second favorite lamppost - a crocheted chain wrapped around the post adorned with crocheted flowers.