Yarn Porn and Then Some

I may have gone a little overboard.

I know a knitter = stash in the same way peanut butter = jelly, or something equally universal in going together. But the thing is, I bought all this yarn in the last week and a half. Forty skeins.

I needed it. I mean this yarn:

Elann's Peruvian Highland Wool in Eggplant

is going to be a ribbed wrap someday.

And you totally don't get a sense of what a beautiful color this yarn is,

Knit Picks Wool of the Andes in Black Cherry Heather

but I am fully intending to turn it into the sweater on the front cover of the Fall 2007 Interwieve Knits.

This will become a Clapotis, if I ever stop letting the pattern intimidate me:

Patons SWS in Natural Crimson

And these will be made into a hat for my husband and a bag for my niece:

Knit Picks Palette in Black, Red, and Purple, and Mauch Chunky in Butternut

So you can't tell me that they weren't worthwhile investments.

My mom loves squirrels, so I am going to felt her one for Christmas. And you can't do that without yarn in the right colors:

Knit Picks Wool of the Andes in Autumn Harvest and Wheat

All of my purchases were completely practical.

What's that? I'm missing some green yarn in the upper left hand corner?

Oh, right.

Green is like kryptonite to me. This yarn begged to come home with me. It leapt into my arms and I was powerless to do anything about it.

ShibuiKnits in Wasabi

Could not resist. My fingers are itching to knit these babies into socks, but I'm trying to be good and remind myself that I should be focusing on Christmas crafting.

I might not be able to resist.

At least Andy approves.

The Beggars are Being Choosy

When I first moved to my city, there was one yarn store. It carried three things: acrylics, fun fur, and ridiculously expensive variations of the two. The nearest real yarn store was 45 minutes away. But when my local store closed, the knitter in me was sad because sometimes you need a yarn fix and any old anything will do.

Months pass. And then, two yarn shops opened up within weeks of each other.

One store is slightly closer, and the parking is much better, so that store becomes my yarn store. They carry a wide selection. The staff, which is the owner, her husband, and whatever friends happen to be around, are helpful and friendly and are obviously as excited about knitting as I am. The store feels homey and there are always people hanging out and knitting. We begin a love affair, and it carries on to this day.

I've never felt comfortable in the other new store, which we will call the bad store because that's what it is. I don't go in much, maybe once every six months, but when I do something doesn't feel right. Then earlier this week I went in, and really thought about what that something is, and I have come to understand that the bad store is the dumbest yarn store ever.

Yes, dumb. Not bad, as in the sell poor quality yarns, because they don't. And not dumb as in the store is owned by people who have never held two sticks in their life, because I know they are accomplished knitters. But, well, let me explain it.

In my eyes, there are two ways to organize a yarn store: by brand or by weight. It makes sense. You want a skein of Cascade 220, you go where the Cascade 220 is. Or you want sock yarn, so you go over to the fingering weight.

Oh, no. Not at the bad store.

All the yarn is stored in big circular bins that hang on the wall. Which would be fine, except they put it in with the ends out. So you can't see any label. Which again might be fine, except for the small detail that the yarn is organized not by brand, not by weight, but by COLOR. All the blues here, all the purples there, and all the greens on the other wall. So you stand and look at all the green yarn, and you can't tell which brand it is, and you can't tell if you're looking at worsted or DK, and you have to pull out 50 skeins to find what you're looking for. Dumb. Dumb, dumb, dumb, with a small bucket of hate thrown in for good measure.

And we won't even go into the fact that the bad store's owner drives a Hummer.