My Life in Fiber

The stash is an unusual thing. People who do not have one do not understand why you would accumulate mass amounts of yarn of all types, colors, weights, and fibers and continue to shop for and covet more. They wonder why, when you see a project you would like to tackle, you don't simple go to your basket or closet and pick out some yarn that you already have to make it. Now other arts and crafts require that you keep supplies on hand if you are serious about them but the stash isn't simply a collection of supplies. It is a tangible history- a rainbow braid that can take you back through all the months or years or decades you have been a devout fiberista. Each skein is a marker of some event or time or project and also holds the possibility of becoming something more.
I thought about all of this while I was untangling and sorting through two gigantic stash baskets earlier this week. Because of work and illness I haven't had as much time to knit lately as I like. This organizing project was something that I had been putting off for a long time but once I got started I felt like I was looking through a photo album of my knitting history. At the bottom of the baskets were balls and bags of Fun Fur from when I very first started knitting and it was new and all the rage. I think I had a scarf in every color made of that stuff. There were a lot of skeins of stiff acrylic from before I had discovered the importance of yarn with at least a little organic matter in it. Then came the beginning of my true addict years, after I had discovered wool and alpaca and angora and mohair. I have a ton of little bits of precious remnants of those first few balls I bought at the "real" yarn store. It's not enough to do anything with really but I've kept it. There's the vibrant pink mohair that I was so enamored with despite its price only to discover after knitting up a scarf that mohair and my bare neck aren't a good combination. I still adore that yarn. There is some Homespun that I made a scarf for my Grandaddy out of because it is so soft and easy to wash. He lived in hot west Texas and didn't have many occasions to wear a scarf. When he died I got it back with his smell on it so I know he wore it at least a couple of times. There are a lot of things that I had grand plans for that have yet to develop. On the very top of the basket there is the nubby purple wool and silk that I got on a little road trip with Kay and Betty when we ate some great pie. That's going to be a cardigan.
So the stash is more than just clutter in my house, or a cushy place for the cat to sleep, or miscalculations about how much yarn I will need for a project. It is a reminder of all these years that knitting and everything that has come with it has been such an important part of my life. It reminds me of my friends, the warm things I have made for my family, and the things I have taught myself to do that I never imagined I would be able to accomplish. For that I am willing to have a bit of clutter.