Every knitter and crocheter has a rather paradoxical relationship with yarn. You always know you have too much, but you cannot resist buying some more. You justify these extra purchases by telling yourself that you never spend on extravagant gifts for your loved ones, because well, you're just going to make something for them. And that a handmade gift, made with care and love, is a far nicer gift than playing the expensive and rather crazy game of brands and branded gift giving (which appears to be extraordinarily popular these days, and adds to me feeling like the village simpleton in parties with my handmade gift). With all these consolatory thoughts (which are just ways of my lower mind justifying to its own higher self that it's completely ok to buy some more yarn), I confess that I routinely treat myself - on a nice sunny Saturday or Sunday, I go out of the house, absolutely alone, with no plans in mind, take my time, board a train or a bus, go into a wool shop, and spend
Comments
Post a Comment