For a moment there, a few minutes, in fact, I thought I had too much yarn.  Let me explain.

A tiny cousin, not the tiniest, but now the middle of three recent additions to the family, is coming over for dinner with her parents tomorrow, and it’s just past her first birthday.  I has a vision yesterday of quickly knitting up a Grass to give her to go with her Bob, and I knew just what yarn would work, a rich green woolen singles I had dyed some time ago. 

But where was it?  Not in the bag of odds and ends. Not in the basket of yarns that need more yarn spun to go with before starting a baby sweater. Not downstairs in the boxes of  mostly weaving yarns, sorted by color. Not in the closet with fiber, estate sale yarn, and other folks’ destash yarn. Not in the Damselfly stockpile, or the heap of Damselfly test runs, or the boxes of Damselfly base yarns. Not  . . . anywhere. Anywhere that I could think of.  Did I have more places to stash yarn than my brain could keep track of? I knew I had seen it fairly recently, could picture the round greenness of it, the feltable texture, the sturdy weight . . . but where was it?

I searched again, this time looking deeper in the baskets, boxes, bags, peeking at the bookshelf that has, umm, some more yarn, but surely it couldn’t be there.  It was, I felt sure, in a flexible container, not a stiff boxy one, but which one, where? 

Making another loop through the house, I remembered another basket, the one I take to Seaview Weavers meetings, the one I keep not four feet from the computer.  And there it was, taken to the meeting where we tried out Nantucket rug-hooking, nestled comfortably on a hooped-up piece of canvas.

Found

Found

 So I don’t have too much yarn, and can put my hands on just what I’m looking for in a few minutes. And that’s a relief.

And the nice thing about touring the stash while looking for something is that you refind things you’ve kind of forgotten about.  I’ve got a small bag of suri alpaca to spin, what a surprise!

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