Against all evidence, I like to think of myself as organized and dedicated and conscientious. I also like to pretend my life looks like a Real Simple photo shoot, where all my knits lounge beautifully against carefully coordinated backdrops and my yarn is carefully stowed in a clever, yet attractive, space-maximizing storage system.
Having a blog really helps with this. I blithely pretend not to have a half-dozen half-finished projects piled untidily around the house. Plus I get to carefully select only those pictures that look like my fantasy life should look. I can even crop out the yucky bits. If only real life were that tidy.
So in the interest of bloggerly veracity (and embracing reality), I present How My Stash Really Looks.
Those big plastic bins? Full of yarn. Those big glass canisters? Full of yarn.
It's also possible there's yarn tucked away in other corners of the living room. (Incidentally, some of the yarn hidden here is the exact same yarn the Craft Pirate bought at Webs a few weeks after I did. Great minds, baby, great minds.)
Much as I am learning to embrace the untidiness of my knitting habits, I have finally embraced being a process knitter. You know how knitters are said to fall into a "process" or a "product" category? I really, really thought of myself as a product knitter, despite the relative absence of said "products." But the Yarn Harlot's new book changed all that.
She has a quick quiz to help determine whether you are a process or a product knitter. One of the questions goes like this: your latest sweater is turning out gigantic. Upon realizing this you a) say "does anyone know a cold elephant?" or b) rip it out - because handknits are for wearing.
I'll be the one looking for a cold elephant. And happily casting on the next sweater.