I have a stash...

I always sort of rolled my eyes when friends talked about their yarn 'stashes'. I mean, seriously, how does a person just accumulate yarn?

Well, case in point: I just started knitting again two weeks ago and already, I have three yarns in my stash. How did this happen?

Well, the first toque I knit used only half the wool I bought for the project. It's now in my stash. I bought a different colour for the second toque and I'll stash the rest of that as well. I have plans to knit second toques out of those stashes, but in the meantime, it's sitting there, mocking me.

Today, I added to my stash, because apparently this whole yarn thing is a lot like an addiction or maybe bunnies. It multiplies and you can't stop it.


I want to knit socks, so I bought a fingerling weight wool at the yarn store today along with a set of absolutely adorable little size 1 double-pointed needles (SQUEE!). A book on sock knitting is on hold request at the library.

So guess where my new yarn is going until the book arrives? That's right! My STASH.

First Toque!

It took me a week and it made me crazy.

I cast on three times. Then I had to rip out several rows twice in the same morning, only to mess the whole thing up again by afternoon and then discover I was doing it wrong again in the evening. Rip, rip, rip. At least I gained some practice at backtracking. It was all 'one step forward, two steps back' for days.

But by this evening, I was well into the decrease rows (Decrease rows! Did you hear that? I'm *decreasing*!) and by the time I walked into my second 'Basic Hat Knitting' class, I was ready to take on double-pointed needles and finish the deed (new discovery: I *heart* double-pointed needles).

I walked out with a lovely purple toque!

Here it is, on my co-operative and enthusiastic model:


Lovely!

I'm already casting on for my second toque, this time in blue.

A brief history

It's fall. This time of year always reminds me of knitting.

Every fall, my mother would tuck back into her knitting projects. She was fond of blankets and scarves. I still have two blankets she knit for me, one of them I still use regularly and I wear the scarves every winter. She liked knitting blankets the best because the project kept her warm as she worked.

In the fall of 1997, I decided to try knitting. I was unemployed at the time and unbearably bored. I bought size 10 needles and a skein of really nasty seafoam green acrylic yarn and tried to knit with directions I found on the Internet. It alleviated at least some of my angst, until I found a job, then I put it aside.

In the fall of 2002 that I picked up needles again. This time, I was at my newly-deceased grandmother's house, feeling ill at ease and sad and very, very bored. To break up the days before the funeral, my mother and I drove around, exploring her childhood town. We ended up at a knitting store and I picked up a book, needles and enough wool to knit a scarf. Mom helped me get started. I knitted my first scarf.

I knitted my way through the rest of that winter. I was miserable at my job, so I knitted on my breaks. My boss was a fat, nasty little man who had it in for me. I knitted as an alternative to punching him in the face. I knitted my way out of that job and into a new career that I loved. Then I got busy. Very busy. And sick of scarves.

Fall, 2009: I missed knitting. My angst, such as it was, was beginning to accumulate. 'Knit a hat' had been an item on my 'life list' for months. I spontaneously checked the class schedule at a local knit shop one evening and discovered that the class on 'Basic Hat Knitting' was starting in an hour. I hopped on my bicycle and went.

And that's how I simultaneously knit my first hat and developed a yen for stupidly expensive wool.

I'm still knitting hats.

Socks are next.

Stay tuned...