I will attempt to say this as politely as possible. I do not want there to be any hurt feelings. I am pretty darn sure that my yarn is not (I will whisper now), as smart as other people’s yarn. My yarn simply cannot do what others peoples yarn does.
In her book “The Yarn Whisperer”, Clara Parkes takes us on a journey into a world, where the dough of a baked brioche is light and airy, much like the dense feel and springy look of the knit brioche stitch. Mind you, I do own a heavy wool yarn that is supposed to be dense, that is its purpose. But I think that “denseness” has rubbed off on all of the other yarns in my stash.
In her blog, “The Yarn Harlot”, Stephanie Pearl-McPhee took her yarn to a museum, where it actually turned itself into a work of art while it was there. How is that even possible? The only place that my yarn could turn itself into art would be at a Picasso exhibit.
Blogger Phil of, “the twisted yarn.com” lives in the Oxfordshire countryside. She sketched the landscape, then her yarns transform themselves into knitted portraits of said landscape. In all four seasons! Unbelievable. My yarn definitely does not know how to do that. When my yarn travels the country with me, it only manages to become a huge knot. Truly, it can take my yarn about one hour in the car to turn itself into a big, twisted, knotty mess. The last time that happened, it took four of us the better part of an hour to get it untangled.
Perhaps I am being unfair. Of course my yarn cannot do the things that the yarn of these famous knitters can. Those yarns are in the company of master knitters, such yarns were probably born knowing that they are meant for greatness. Mine live in an average world, filled with crocheting mediocrity, this has undoubtedly dulled their abilities. Blame the environment.
I have purchased yarns of the highest pedigree. Ones so special that I have to keep them in their own storage basket, separated from the mere commoners that came from Wal-Mart. Yet, amazingly enough, these pedigreed fibers do not perform any better than the others. Obviously I have wasted my money.
Maybe it is a language barrier. I have bought yarn in Morocco, Spain and Turkey, and English is not their first language. The ones purchased in the U.K. and Ireland may have difficulty with the accent. So, those yarns are forgiven for not understanding a pattern. But what about the ones from the local Hobby Lobby? What is their excuse?
My friend Kim crochets beanies. Using a pattern, it takes her yarn about two hours to complete each hat. When I make the same hat, using the same pattern, my yarn can take four to five hours. Yes, my yarn is slow.
I own a sock yarn that, I have to say it, is not too bright. Don’t get me wrong, the colors are bright and beautifully hand dyed. But it has never once turned itself into a sock. Never. I tried.
My yarn is simply not that sharp. Well, I do have one that is sharp, the one that rolled off into a tumbleweed while I was camping in the desert. I never have gotten all of the stickers out of it. Lesson learned there was that one mustn’t try to crochet and do Fireball shots at the same time. Blame the Fireball.
At least my yarn is smart enough to stay in my bag while I am walking. I have heard that people knit and walk at the same time, this cannot be good. If I were to do that, it would end with the yarn cushioning the blow as I hit the ground with a painful thud. Not a pretty sight.
Please don’t misunderstand me, I love my yarns. Each is unique, and special. And even though mine are challenged, I am glad to have them. Maybe someday they will step up their game. I will keep my fingers crossed!
(I caught this guy studying, so there is hope!)