Enough Yarn for the Apocalypse?

Well, maybe not enough for the apocalypse, but it's still a lot of yarn.

The downsizing continues here. Since someone was coming by yesterday to look at the lovely working treadle sewing machine we had, it seemed a good time to go through our material and crafting stash. Maybe the gal coming by would want to haul some of it home, too.

Many people seem to think that knowing how to sew their own clothes is going to be a crucial skill if things ever go south in a big hurry. I disagree. I'm not sure these folks take into account the huge volume of used clothes in this country. At the first sign of a rip, stain, missing button, or, even worse, changing fashion (egads!), clothing is discarded. The thrift stores get more than they know what to do with and the excess is often shipped off to other countries after going unsold for a set period of time.

I think the more important skills will be stain removal, mending, and sewing on buttons. I'm lousy at the first, but then again, I don't really care all that much. As for the other two, yep, I can do that. In fact, I just sewed down the edges of the peeling iron-on patches this week for these jeans' repair. Being able to re-size or refashion garments will also likely be a good talent to have, one I hope to be able to barter for if necessary.

What about the apocalyptic yarn stash you thought this post was about?

Well, at one time, we thought my mother-in-law might move in with us. I had fantasies of her teaching me how to crochet and knit, giving me something to do on cold, dark winter nights because, after TEOTWAKI, of course, we would have no Internet, no TV, and only crappy light from the kerosene lanterns by which to do anything. So, I dutifully haunted the estate sales, thrift store, and church rummage sales, gathering together a respectable stash of assorted yarns, crochet hooks, and knitting needles.

Plans changed and the opportunity for learning these skills first-hand dissipated. I also realized I have very little interest in learning them and no aptitude, based on lessons in childhood, a session in adulthood a few years ago, and looking through the instruction books. With our latest moving plans, holding on to a big bulky stash of something I will not use is not an option.

I started looking through the stash yesterday and remembered that I don't know squat about what makes one kind of yarn desirable and another not so good. How would I describe what I had? Thankfully the world hasn't fallen apart yet, so I was able to turn to the Internet for research and find out that the yarn in my "fun" stash is actually quite desirable.


I have a dozen or so Moda Dea skeins, a yarn which is no longer made, plus some cool metallic ladder ribbon. Ah ha! Now I have the hook needed for the crafters.

I am hoping to transfer my collection of goodies to some yarn enthusiast who will actually use them instead of just storing them. Nothing likes to sit around idle and unused, which is also why I made sure the treadle sewing machine went to someone who will sew with it, and not to an antique dealer.

What about you? Are you hanging on to anything that you think you should have but that honestly you are totally uninterested in and will likely never, ever use? Or that you could easily do without or barter for if the proverbial shit ever really does hit the fan?

C'mon, 'fess up. I'm sure there's something lurking in the back of the closet or storeroom that makes you grimace just a little when you catch sight of it, thinking of the money you spent on it and the fact that you really don't like it ... but now you have it so you ought to keep it ... but it's taking up space that you could use for other stuff ... but wouldn't it be bad, possibly risky, to get rid of it ... oh, but what a relief it'd be to send it out the door.

Yeah, I saw that glimmer of recognition in your eyes. You have a useless yarn stash of your own, or books on butchering a pig or cow with the absolute self-knowledge you could never do it, or ice tongs when you live in the desert, or a solar oven when you live in the rainforest. Confess. It's good for the soul, and it will make the comments more fun to read.