It is a fact, universally acknowleged, that spinners that offer their wares do not sell off everything they make, at least not right away. Oh no. They keep a stash of the best stuff for themselves, or they think a yarn works out better as a finished knitting project, and sell that instead. Many of my knitwear offerings started as handspun yarn I wanted to sell, but just couldn’t let go of, at least not at that stage.
For example, I had a scrumptious bit of a yarn all ready to go up in the shop. Pretty pictures. Flowers, even. But just as I was going to list it, I heard a tiny, woolly voice, squeaking at me from where I’d put the skein to admire it. “Noooooo, not yet. I want to be mitts! Warm, fuzzy mitts!’
And You know what? Yarn doesn’t lie. If this yarn needs to become it’s best self and become mitts before they go into the shop, then so be it. But when I got out a pair of knitting needles, the skein wasn’t finished with me yet.”How about some black yarn to go with me? I’m lonely, I don’t want to be mitts without some company. Make me a friend!”
All right, fine… But this was turning into some woolly version of, “If You Give A Mouse a Cookie.” I had some Shetland wool that I had spun up into a single. I plied it on itself with a drop spindle, so there was enough thickness to match the other yarn. And that was exactly what was needed.
Sometimes you just can’t resist the feel of a brand-new skein of yarn, fresh from a spinning wheel and a soak. Especially when the season’s starting to turn, and autumn starts to insinuate itself into the world. Sometimes it’s good to change a plan right in the middle of it’s execution, because something works out better. And sometimes the yarn talks to you. It’s not necessarily Pandemic-induced craziness, but possibly inspiration…