I know I promised not to buy yarn.

Let me reassure you, I kept my promise. Really, I did. This yarn:

And this yarn:

Were totally and completely free. To me. :-)

My knit coven had our holiday party last night, at one of the group's home. The evening involved a nice nosh, some light tipple (my own contribution: blackberry mead, yummmm) and lots of yarn getting flashed around. A few of us brought some excess to trade. I've trimmed my own stash down lately, so I had none I wanted shot of at present, but saw instead these lovelies to bring home with me, along with 11 of their friends (I've now got five in the blue and eight in the green).

Now the question becomes what does one do with over 1,000 yards of color co-ordinated yarn in DK weight? It's lovely, yes, but I'm not entirely sure what to do with it, if you see. This is my biggest problem, really: I buy (or acquire by other means fair) yarn without having a plan for it. I buy on the strength of the yarn's potential to please me when knit. I buy the yarn, not the project. 

Which leads to my having a stashtainer full of lovely yarns with out a darn thing planned for any of it. Not a jot. And I love it. As far as I'm concerned, that's the best part of knitting--the yarn, the potential of the yarn's becoming what it will be, the slide show of possibilities when I look at the yarn. That's the most seductive part of the enterprise. 

And that particular philosophy explains, I think, the larger part of my own issues with my life. I'm so caught up in the potential that I never bother with actually making any of it real. Because the potential is so intoxicating! Reality just can't possibly compare.

Maybe that's why I'm procrastinating on getting some work done this week that I need to do. I have a lot of stuff that needs doing and no desire to do any of it--it's no longer potential, it's reality. How banal. 

If only the real world was as interesting as the worlds inside my own head!