Thursday, November 24, 2005

Yarn shopping to solve a problem

My friend Marji and I both posted about our yarn hoarding compulsion a couple weeks ago. We each said (independently and unbeknownst to one another) that the syndrome is fed, in part, by recognizing potential in all kinds of yarn and fabric that others might not appreciate. My case in point was some tan tweedy shetland-style yarn which I acquired in my first big yarn-amassing binge in 1990. This yarn came in a large lot of assorted colors. I've used a lot of these in several projects: four Fair Isle sweaters and some hats come to mind. But this tan tweed has resolutely refused to be place in any project.

Until it met the Blackberry Ridge sport weight navy.
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(Click the photo to make it bigger.) I took this picture a few days ago. The piece is now about 9 inches long. It goes quickly for a small-gauge project. I'm quite pleased with how it's turning out and Scott, who will get the sweater eventually, likes it too. The third part of this little yarn menage-a-trois is the loden green fingering weight I got from a frogged Brooks Bros sweater. It was doubled and I separated it to make a lighter weight yarn. (That yarn also appeared in the original, unseparated two-strand version in my Professor Vest.) I'm happy with the look of this sweater and the feel of the fabric. But I'm really just thrilled to finally put that yarn to use in a pleasing way.

Hope you all had a great Thanksgiving. I told Owen all about the family Thanksgiving, 1985, when the Morrison clan reenacted The Lost Weekend. Of course, I didn't elaborate on the drunken debauchery. But it was a voyage spanning at least 10 states, culminating in the Great Cranberry Spill in which my mom wiped out in my grandmother's butler's pantry while carrying the Waterford bowl of cranberry sauce to the dining room. Those of us in the kitchen heard the crash, and then Mom reappeared, hands red, white cotton blouse ruined, but crystal unbroken! My grandmother's dining room wallpaper still has a small stain where a few drops flew in to land. There's a lot more to tell about that trip, but now it's late and I must get some sleep.

1 comment:

Vicki Knitorious said...

No stains on the wallpaper in remembrance, but a painful memory recalled... I don't think it was Waterford, but 'twas a lovely, cut glass bowl of my mom's that I dropped in the sink one year and it DID break. Boohoo. I hate when that happens.