It all started innocently enough; I sold some mittens to a coworker to give to his mother for a Christmas present.
I didn’t think anything of it– he was helping me, after all. I am poor, he is now richer with the wealth of knitting. It was also getting the things out of my apartment and no longer mocking me for being unable to find a home for them.
So when I came into the office one Monday morning and was talking to the woman at the front desk, Chris comes up to me with a red sendik’s bag saying “This is my mother’s way of saying thank you for the knitting.” I laughed, took the bag and peered in to find a menagerie of knitting needles. A huge bundle of single points ranging in color and size, a pile of double points I’d never be able to use in my life and a coil of taped-together circulars. I took a look, knowing I’d likely never use anything from this bag, but thanked Chris and told him to thank his mother. I then posted on Ravelry that I’d be sharing the love. My coworker took a large set of single points and I sent an email to the administrative assistant at my church knowing the “We Needle You” group might want something.
The ladies at knit night picked at the needles, we did some research on the random teal-green needles to see if they were bakelite or not in which case they’d be worth something (for the record, I didn’t care enough to buy a bottle of 409 to find out if they were authentic) and most of the needles came home with me. A set of 6 steel double points are going to Kat and a couple blue DPs went to Marilyn.
I received an email back from the We Needle You group saying they’d love to take the needles off my hands. I was happy to know I’d not be holding onto these things for long so I planned to stop at church before work on Sunday.
On Saturday I was thinking about my stash and, after listening to a couple episodes of Knitmore Girls Podcast, I came to the conclusion that I needed to cull my stash and really only keep the yarn I was mad about and/or may potentially knit in the near future. I had gotten to the point where my stash no longer was owned by me, but had begun to overtake me. So it was time for some things to go. Boyfriend thought this was a good idea (I’m sure anything I can do to get rid of my yarn is good in his standards) and I continued to knit on the socks I was currently obsessed with as a reward for knitting a full skein of the commission cowls.
I went home on Sunday morning and, after cleaning up the kitchen, grabbed bin after bin and sorted through what I wanted and didn’t want anymore. I came up with this:
For those of you who may not realize, I have 6 32-quart bins that were brimming with yarn of all colors, weights and textures. I had Caron Simply Soft that had been sitting in the stash for over 5 years that would NEVER get knit. I had old sweaters I had taken apart in the vain hope that one day I’d find a use for it. I had schnibbles of handspun that would never amount to being knit into anything.
I was over it all. So I put it into a garbage bag and hauled it to the church. I didn’t tell the woman this until I’m sure she already had looked at it but I included a letter stating my hopes that she and her group would have a use for the things I no longer needed as my stash was currently exceeding my knitting expectations.
I felt so good about myself: I had successfully beaten one of my packrat tendencies and got rid of fiber I knew for certain I didn’t enjoy the look of anymore or knew I’d never have a need for. Three of the bins are now half-full and one is almost empty and I was more than happy to be able to pass on the fiber love to other people around me.
I then went to work and bought a skein of sock yarn.
Some things can’t be helped.