Wednesday, September 4, 2013

My Inner Rock Star, the Precious, and a Russian Rainbow.


It is funny sometimes the things I'll find myself considering too precious.  I'm sure some of you know exactly what I mean:  saving something, even something we dearly love, because it is too "good" to actually put to use.

In my case, I'm talking specifically about this lovely sock yarn from Fireweed Dyeworks (Alaskan Nancy on etsy) in the Russian Rainbow colorway that I've been hoarding.  And I almost hate to link you up like that because the shop is closed until the end of September/early October, and it feels like I'm teasing you, but knitters you should probably go ahead and just give it a big old heart on your etsy profile because oh, there is so much delicious, vivid color there.  I'm a happy repeat customer.


And by "hoarding" I mean that I've had it in my stash for some time now, but up until last weekend had been saving it for some super special project (what? I had not a single idea) or until I had better needles than my humble, inexpensive bamboo circulars.

The knitter's equivalent of waiting for the Pope to come to dinner to break out the fine china.

I love this yarn.  

The colors make me so happy and I actually squealed when I managed to snag some (hint:  you have to stalk the etsy shop a little bit obsessively when she gives you a heads up that she is going to dye some up) and then I got all giddy again the day it arrived in my mailbox.

There may have been skipping.  And singing.


I stared at it, I squished it, I sniffed it (I know, I know, it is weird, and you non-knitters are all like, "just put the skein down and back slowly away" but this yarn just smells so good that I couldn't help it.  My knitting friends all have a knowing look in their eyes right about now.)

I'm not proud of this, but I got a little overly possessive when one of the kids started showing too much interest in the happy colors for my comfort.  

(Go ahead and insert all the Gollum references you can think of here as I promise you they won't be that far off from the truth.)

When my husband saw me caressing it wistfully one day, he casually suggested it might make a cute baby gift for our dear friends' new baby. I thought the man had lost his mind and might as well have suggested I also give them one of my children or my right arm.

This yarn is mine, all mine! Husbands is tricksey, Precious, telling us to make cutesy baby gifties but we knows better, don'ts we?

But, still I wouldn't knit anything with it.  I rejected pattern after pattern.  And so the yarn sat, wrapped in tissue paper, in a plastic tub, in my closet.  

From time to time I'd get it out, squish, pet it, and sniff it and then wrap it back up and tuck it back safely away with the rest of my preciouses yarn stash.

Which is a shame.
And, frankly, kind of silly.
A knitter who won't use her most beautiful yarn.
Good grief.

Thankfully I had the Fat Squirrel Speaks knit-a-long to challenge me to stop hoarding or "squirreling" away my lovely yarn and actually make something with it.

 Yes, that is sort of an uncommon way to knit socks.
The method to my madness is here.

So, super easy vanilla socks it is, with much love to Susan B. Anderson, because honestly no pattern will ever be as perfect for this yarn as I want for it to be, and I want to finally use it, love it, and enjoy it.

There was a moment over the weekend, as I was winding it up from my perch in the passenger seat of the van while traveling north to my parents' place, when I tangled up the yarn and I thought "see?  This is why you don't use your beautiful yarn.  Nothing good can come of this."  

But then four minutes later the problem was solved (okay, I ended up breaking the yarn and then rejoining it, saving every precious inch I could, but Lamaze breathing got me through it) and I spent the rest of the weekend grabbing whatever snippet of time I could sneak away working on this lovely, happy, self-striping decadence eagerly awaiting each color progression.

It was SO much more rewarding to listen to my inner rock star and not that annoying naysayer who likes to pipe up in my brain from time to time. Gollum, Gollum.



Don't be a Gollum, friends.  Use the good stuff.
It will make you happy.