A Triumph of Willpower (sorta)

I have been on what one might call a "yarn diet" this year. I inspected the scope of the yarn stash, noted how it was spilling out of it's designated "spots" and decided it might be time to cut back a little. So, I vowed to myself not to buy any yarn unless it was "souvenir yarn" bought while I was out of the city, or absolutely needed to complete a project. (Souvenir yarn, much like margaritas and cheesecake consumed while on vacation, absolutely doesn't ever count.) It has worked swimmingly so far, and I have only bought yarn during my trips to Toronto and Montreal. The yarn stash is slowing receding back to its designated places. All was going according to plan.

Then my Dad came to town, and before he left, he slipped me a little pile of cash and told me to "buy something fun for myself." Well, damn. What is more fun than yarn? Nothing is more fun than yarn! I needed to go to the yarn store to buy a couple of balls of yarn for a specific gift I wanted to knit, so I knew I would be in trouble, cash in hand, surrounding by soft temptation. I decided I needed to prepare myself: I went into the stash, pulled it all out, and looked at just how much there was and how much had already been designated to projects I really wanted to start "when I got the time". Then I marched off to the yarn store.

It was like a homecoming, I hadn't been there in so long. I wandered around and touched everything, squishing it's softness in my hands. I petted yarn, exclaimed over colours, ran silk and angora and bamboo through my fingers and sighed. Then I left them where they were, and only bought the two balls of yarn and the needle felting kit I needed.

Oh, and a swift.

Which was totally, completely necessary. And not yarn.