Currently, I am in summer school. This is both wonderful and terrible. One the one hand, I am getting ahead/catching up to my peers and getting in a an extra bit of credit hours, getting me closer to my degree. On the other hand, I'm studying obsessively and freaking out about exams.
I have a rather interesting reaction to stress. The more there is of it, the more I'm willing to push myself, but at the same time the more I need to get away. In the last year or so, my escape of choice has been the fiber arts. Case in point, I have a huge midterm tomorrow and so I'm desperately fantasizing about learning how to spin. I'm already halfway there, with a neat little bundle of fleece from my LYS and some books. Now I just need a spindle. I'm gonna try and get my grandpa (who is very handy with tools, bored, and here) to make me a couple (top down vs the other way) and try to teach myself from a book. That's how I learned to knit properly, and that's how I would like to learn to spin, at least at first. I plan to take a class after summer school is done, so that I can refine my techniques there.
This is a long way of saying that I plan to learn how to spin. Wish me luck.
Tuesday, July 27, 2010
Saturday, July 24, 2010
Ignorance is Bliss
I thought that I was above all that hoarding and buying yarn uncontrollably. I thought I was above all those crazy symptoms that the Yarn Harlot mentions in her blog.
I was wrong.
It only really hit me as I started to sort through all the stuff in my room. I am currently living in the basement, and my grandparents are living in the room that I used to call mine. That's not that important. What matters is that they have the boxes where I stored my yarn. "Stored" being the operative word here. Somehow, part of my stash migrated down into the basement with me, but really, that's rather understandable, given that that's where I spend most of my time. It wouldn't do, sneaking into the room where my grandparents are sleeping just to grab that one last skein for a project. Even if my grandma is a knitter, she won't understand. I thought I had everything under control.
But then I started looking around the house. There's a pair of unfinished socks in the main room, for when the women gather to do some type of craft after dinner. There's another pair of socks in my backpack (for when I have to sit on the train for an hour) and the car (in case I get stuck somewhere). There's pieces of the blanket I'm knitting for my grandparents in the living room, and another project hanging out near the couch where I'm sleeping.
I've skipped right from "who can tell that I have yarn?" to "Going out into the street in order not to be within ten feet of yarn".
Lesson learned: Yarn is far more addictive than I have given it credit.
I was wrong.
It only really hit me as I started to sort through all the stuff in my room. I am currently living in the basement, and my grandparents are living in the room that I used to call mine. That's not that important. What matters is that they have the boxes where I stored my yarn. "Stored" being the operative word here. Somehow, part of my stash migrated down into the basement with me, but really, that's rather understandable, given that that's where I spend most of my time. It wouldn't do, sneaking into the room where my grandparents are sleeping just to grab that one last skein for a project. Even if my grandma is a knitter, she won't understand. I thought I had everything under control.
But then I started looking around the house. There's a pair of unfinished socks in the main room, for when the women gather to do some type of craft after dinner. There's another pair of socks in my backpack (for when I have to sit on the train for an hour) and the car (in case I get stuck somewhere). There's pieces of the blanket I'm knitting for my grandparents in the living room, and another project hanging out near the couch where I'm sleeping.
I've skipped right from "who can tell that I have yarn?" to "Going out into the street in order not to be within ten feet of yarn".
Lesson learned: Yarn is far more addictive than I have given it credit.
Thursday, July 15, 2010
Hello and Welcome
Hi,
My name is the Yarn Minion, both through choice and circumstance. I Started in the fiber arts and thought that I was strong and could easily escape. This has proven to be a very false conclusion on my part. In the end, I decided that it would be easier and better if I found a place to sort/store all the accoutrement of my fiber obsession so that I could be recorded for posterity (or to give me/someone a laugh). Please, feel free to look around, but please try to be a little courteous and a little kind. Thank you.
My name is the Yarn Minion, both through choice and circumstance. I Started in the fiber arts and thought that I was strong and could easily escape. This has proven to be a very false conclusion on my part. In the end, I decided that it would be easier and better if I found a place to sort/store all the accoutrement of my fiber obsession so that I could be recorded for posterity (or to give me/someone a laugh). Please, feel free to look around, but please try to be a little courteous and a little kind. Thank you.
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