It surprises no one in Knitsville that people speak to their yarn. It should surprise no one that there is a habit of the yarn talking back. There’s no real point in speaking with yarn if it’s not going to engage in the conversation.

Sometimes yarn even starts first.

My yarn is (mostly) in my office. About half of it is caged (in bins) and the rest is free range (not in bins, might be in a bag, could be just hanging out.) There is not a day that goes by without one of them trying to get my attention and wanting out of the cage or off the range. They want to make it to the living room where the yarn in waiting is waiting.

I am allowed only one bin of yarn in the living room so Mr. Honey doesn’t feel as if his life has been taken over by fiber. It has been but he wants the illusion. So, there is one bin of yarn downstairs. One big bin and then there’s free range yarn down there as well. But that’s because I thought it would be easier than having more free range yarn in the office. Just keep whatever was down there down there. All 100 skeins of it.

It is all nicely piled up and from that, every month, I select at least 10 fibers to work on my collection. Those yarns are put into a bag and are resting at my work seat. (My mother-in law’s chair. She was quite the crafter.) That is the place all other yarns want to be. And they let me know it. Right now, there is a group of Homespun letting me know they’re ready to unite and become a prayer shawl and just this morning, a skein of Yarn Bee Sugar Wheel is telling me he would be ideal for that shawl design I have in mind. He would be. And while the Homespun will surely become a prayer shawl, the Sugar Wheel does not have such a guaranteed future. Did I mention there’s 100 skeins in the living room?

I have a great relationship with my yarn: it talks to me; I’m talking back. We can’t always get together but we don’t want to be apart. Some days, it works better than my relationships with people.