Filed under: Treasures
When my family was visiting, they brought me a very special gift from my grandmother. It was a blue topaz and diamond pendant.
This pendant belonged to my great grandmother and was given to her by my great grandfather on their 56th wedding anniversary.
My great grandmother was born in March. My great grandfather wanted to get her a pendant with the March birthstone, aquamarine, and enlisted the help of my grandparents. When they couldn’t find the aquamarine, they chose the blue topaz as an alternate.
My great grandmother went to be with the Lord on her birthday, march 2, 1991. She left instructions that the pendant should be given to my grandmother, since my grandmother was instrumental in picking out the gift a few years before. Since I am the first great grandchild and share my great grandmothers birth month besides, my grandmother thought I should have this beautiful keepsake. It was packaged in the original felt bag along with a note in my great grandmother’s own hand.
I never saw my great grandmother knit, but I know she quilted and sewed. When cabbage patch dolls were all the rage, she made homemade cabbage patch look-alikes for all us girls. We really treasured those dolls.
I think of my great grandmother with fondness. Some of my favorite memories are of spending time with her, my great grandfather, and our family out on their pontoon boat. My great grandmother was the one who taught me how to cast a fishing line, and I was the only little girl not afraid to touch the minows, or the fish. The fish fries that inevitably followed a day of fishing on their quiet lake yielded the best tasting fish I ever had.
Those of you who know Abigail know that her brand of structured chaos has a tendency to whip through your happy, ordinary life and switch things up a bit. Until I met her, I was an *gasp* occasional knitter who took pleasure in taking months to churn out an afghan. Now, she’s got me knitting dish cloths, hats, socks, and even pants. My poor little process knit is in exile, begging for a hug.
To further illustrate my point, I had a post all lined up for today until she threw a fabulous dinner party last night that was so much fun that I have to delay my other post until Monday, just so I can blog about it. We all talked and laughed and ate fabulous, fattening food.
But that’s not the worst crime of fun. Before I tell you what the worst crime of fun was, I need to explain to you that, until very recently, not only was I one of those rare knitters that only had one project on the needles at any given time and was petrified of ever having more than one project going at once, but I am that rare breed of knitter that has a stash phobia. Give me just enough yarn, plus a little emergency extra, to complete my current project and maybe the next one, and I’m golden. But the mere thought of stockpiling yarn for a rainy day–that whole “let the yarn tell me what it wants to be” thing–absolutely terrifies me!
Well, last night after dinner, knowing full well about my phobia, Abigail had a stash lottery, and I came home with something like 25 balls of yarn. (I know that 25 balls of yarn may not constitute a stash in your way of thinking, but remember, I am stash challenged.) This is yarn that I have no plans for at the moment, and I am just at a loss. I have never dealt with this before, and I don’t know what to do.
Now, I have refrained from posting photos of this *big gasp*–I don’t think I can say it–stash, because I know what you’re thinking. Because you are a kind and loving knitter with only my best interests at heart, you don’t want to see me lapse into a nervous breakdown from stash phobia, and you’ll offer, begrudgingly, I’m sure, to take the offending stash off my hands, and thus, return my life to its normal, predictable state.
Well, I want to thank you for your generosity and willingness to bear this burden, but I have decided to face my fears head-on. It’s the only way to work through them. I’m thinking the following might help me overcome stash phobia (feel free to add suggestions):
1. Slowly get to know the yarn, one ball at a time. Touch it, admire it, and try to let it tell me what it wants to be.
2. Slowly work my way up to viewing multiple balls of yarn at a time. Admire them gradually, and take time to breathe.
3. Organize the yarn, and plan a project for each ball.
4. In the event that I become truly panic-stricken, pretend that I’m simply storing the yarn for a friend; it’s not really mine. (What? You want to be that friend? Cool! You can pretend with me.)
5. If all else fails, try immersion therapy: I will go to my LYS–without my personal yarn shopper (Abigail)–drown in yarn until I’m cured, and try not to come home with any of those lovely fibers!
I think the Yarn Harlot may have suggested some of the above. If not, she should have.
At the conclusion of the dinner party, RB presented Joy with a giant tug rope. She absolutely adores it! I think she has a new best friend.
If you have never attended a knitting circle, I highly recommend that you do so IMMEDIATELY (or as soon as the opportunity presents itself). Knitting circles really are as cool as the novels portray. No matter how different your lives are, you instantly have something in common with all these other people who love knitting as much as you do. Whether you need help with a toe-up sock, exploring new knitting techniques (or refining existing ones), or freeing that nasty tail that wound up in your work when you weren’t paying attention, there is always someone there with a ready answer and a word of encouragement.
Some days, you might be the life of the party. On other days, you might want to just quietly observe the group while you knit. Either way, it’s all good.
Take time out of your crazy life to do something you love with others who love the same thing you do. You never know, you just might find a family.