Yarn Sale, anyone?

Sales are about hope. About the belief that things do go our way from time to time. That there's a simple pleasure in finding something that we love, at the price we want to pay, with something left over for ice cream and a good, trashy magazine. That there's a fortune in the cookie.

So, with a trip just over the horizon, for ten days to a yoga training course, I'm searching for a bargain in yarn. Seems that it should be time for all that winter fiber to go on sale. And I'm convinced that, sometime last week, I found a site that was selling Elsebeth Lavold Angora for a mere $3 something a skein. Can't find it now, though. My hope is to find a beautiful, hand-painted DK weight wool-silk, at a fabulous price. I'm not asking much, am I? The project will probably be another Swallowtail Shawl, the most lovely of shawl patterns. And this time I'll have the rare experience of experience under my belt. First time I'll ever make a second version of a pattern. Should be interesting to see what it feels like to experience a learning curve in knitting.

Or I might dye over some Koolaid-dyed yarn from the summer. In theory, blueberry and lime Koolaid create a palette of pale, limey greens fading into a sky-ish blue, with intervals of ivory fading toward color. In reality, very neon. And after seeing the beauty of the Noro Kureyon, with variegated charcoals and deep greens and khaki and teals, it's a challenge to dive into a project with a yarn that strobes and glows in the dark.

Why must one love the yarn before committing to a project?


Carrie K said…
WEBS, maybe?

What I want to know is why I can't finish a project without falling in love with (several) others before I'm done.