I realize that there are very few skeins of yarn on this planet that I do not love. Even if I don't buy it, I will pet it and coo over it and give it a little bit of baby talk to build its confidence (I don't want it to feel bad if its not coming home with me).
I have a healthy stash. I make no apologies about that. But lately I've noticed that the yarn is getting a little bit to comfy in my abode. Its small subtle things but I'm starting to feel intimidated by the little wooly beasts...
For example, the current scarf I'm crocheting refused to share the coasters with my coffee cup this morning:
I found a shawl that I'm knitting sunbathing in the morning light:
A bag full of random colors charged me when I walked into the spare room, demanding attention:
A different shawl decided to play with one of Dooley love's toys (notice the death grip the circular needle has on the poor plushie):
And then there is this little prima donna lace skein. I've been hesitant to knit with it because its so darn pretty so I usually just pet it. Apparently its decided it needs a special throne and has taken up residence in the milk glass Cathy gave me for my birthday:
I'm not real sure what to do about it. I mean, I love yarn. Its the comfort food of my fiber world. I get all zen like when I use it and its bonus points that I end up with something that I can use or give as a gift.
But this kind of behavior really can't be tolerated, just look at the plotting:
Perhaps I should threaten it with a trip through the washing machine on the hot cycle...