Hi. My name is Sue...

baby sweater and hat

Hi. My name is Sue and I'm a fiber addict. Well, knitting and crocheting addict...I've dabbled in needle felting. I'd really like to get into spinning or weaving, but my marriage is at stake here, and I have to keep things under control. I guess you could say that I'm a "functional" addict.

mittens

I've tried to break myself of this habit, but I'm not strong enough. I am lured by the call of the yarn.

I shop with my hands. If I like the way a yarn feels, I will buy it. (Within reason. My hands really liked the 100% cashmere yarn that they found, but at the bargain rate of $100 for about 25oz., I passed. It was tough, but I did it.

crochet sweaters

When I started, I used simple cotton yarn. It wasn't tough to pick some up nearly anywhere. The corner store, a 5 and dime, any craft store. Then I got deeper and deeper into it. Cotton just wouldn't do--bamboo, merino wool, alpaca, baby alpaca for crying out loud--exotic yarns that held their own seductive allure. Oh, sure, I still used cotton. Pima cotton. Fine long stranded cotton that may or may not be mercerized. Oh yeah. I even became a snob with the cotton. Cotton! The stuff that jeans are made of; the stuff that my baby diapers and dust cloths were made of became status symbol.

scarves

I began crocheting dishcloths. Something as common and easy as a dishcloth was my gateway to bigger things. Blankets came next...then baby clothes. Scarves, hats, adult sweaters easily followed--not even a bump in the road. When common everyday items weren't holding my interest, I began to flirt with edgier fare. The everyday could no longer satisfy me. I needed more.


Not content to simply crochet, I learned to crochet doilies. And when that wasn't enough, I had to crochet doilies using extremely thin, gossamer thread. Then I made lace. I made a christening set. Yeah, I was hooked.

socks

Then came the knitting. I made a swatch, then I jumped right into making socks. I was crazy, man. I couldn't just make a scarf, I had to flirt with the hard stuff. Not just socks--I had to try it all. Fair Isle, Intarsia, lace. And always more yarn. The endless skeins of yarn. Soft, touchable, beautifully spun yarn in colors and textures that my hands adored.

(sideways) hats

When I flirted with the idea of buying my own spinning wheel, I realized that I was out of control. I had to face my addiction. It began with a trip into the attic where I keep stash. My beautiful, beautiful yarn. Yarn that was bought on sale. Yarn that was bought on impulse. Yarn that was bought with a particular project in mind that had since been forgotten. Yarn that was never intended for any project, but that my hands had simply had to get. I could have wept at what I saw. There was more than I could probably get through in a lifetime. My stash was taking over my life. I needed to own this addiction. I needed to take steps.

So I took steps. I made hats and mittens and scarves for all of the nieces and nephews for Christmas. Problem solved. My addiction was directed towards positive end. There was no guilt over this kind of crafting. There was no worry over housework left undone, or dinners left unmade. Did it matter if I didn't finish the laundry? I had a higher calling. 

Best of all, I didn't have to buy yarn. My stash was enough. I dove in with gusto, taking control of the thing which had controlled me for so long. I directed my energy towards a positive goal. My addiction didn't feel like it was controlling me. I was in control. I  was in charge. I won! 

My first knit sweater!
 (ignore the messy dresser. I'll get around to it when I'm done knitting.)

For Christmas, George gave me a gift certificate for my favorite yarn store. This is what I made. He's getting me another gift certificate for my birthday. I'm pushing for another for our anniversary. Maybe I'll make him something this time too.

What can I say? I'm an addict.