Hubby has finally discerned the entire quantity of "The Stash." I'm screwed. And on an immediate "yarn diet."
I had said, over this long weekend, that I would like to "clean out the corner" of my office because we'd stuffed a lot of stuff into the office/yoga space/voiceover studio/guitar room/sewing room. You get the idea: the "multi-purpose room" gone amok.
|Toiletry bags for rape kits|
Realistically (as I go off on a small tangent), we know they're likely to pitch everything that would remind them of the incident, but at least for a moment, they have something that isn't "institutional" feeling.
But, back to The Stash...
I did get a few other things done: we bought a "mini-me" truck for me (traded in the sedan) and I started on the lace pattern for the sock. Knitted a bit on the Yellow Sweater. Pulled out Silent Night to get working on it for Midnight Mass (yes, I do know it, but it'll take that long to build up the calluses I filed off to knit).
And today, Hubby pings me and says, (in tones I can *tell* are ominous) "You have an INSANE AMOUNT OF YARN!!!" He went out to buy totes, and no, I'm not telling you how many. But apparently The Stash exceeds the amount of totes he purchased.
The good news is that it was all in bags (specific tote bags) and those bags are now in totes. And I have a floor.
But...but... He KNOWS the extent of The Stash. This is bad. I don't knit for a living, but according to his note to me, I may as well, because I certainly have the yarn to do that.
Oh man. This is bad. I was hoping to only gradually introduce these projects as I was knitting on them. And as soon as I finish the knitting for the babies coming this spring, I was going to start doing these other projects. (sigh)
He'll get over it, because he has a similar stash of electronic stuff and tools. And I tell him that yarn is wayyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy cheaper than therapy.
I don't think he believes me...