she lingers. Until I either
a) find a pair of size 10 dpns that I did no know I owned
b) get myself to a craft store to buy new needles
this knit will linger unfinished.
But isn't the color so pretty?
I love the slightly shaded heathered look.
My other brown sweater (yes, that brown sweater)...
My yarn balls?
They grow smaller.
I am at war with the yarn gnomes.
You do know about the yarn gnomes don't you?
The YARN GNOMES!!!!
They come at night and steal your yarn.
Don't laugh. This is a serious epidemic.
Each night the unsuspecting knitter crawls wearily into their nice warm bed and dreams peaceful woolly dreams. The poor, poor knitter is unaware that evil ugly yarn gnomes are coming into their home and stealing their yarn.
But not just any yarn.
NO, there are rules that govern the yarn gnome.
They can not steal yarn from a pristine skein of yarn with the ball band still on.
These are safe.
As are pretty twisted hanks of yarn.
These can not be touched. Gnomes are not allowed to raid stash yarn. That would be just plain mean. The yarn must be in use. Notice I said "in use." Not "used." Nobody wants left-over cast-off yarn from projects long finished. Not even the yarn gnomes. (Unless that yarn is cashmere, then send it to me) No, the ball must be in use. As in the knitter must be currently knitting a project with it.
Grey area concerning the rules would be yarn from skein or hanks that was balled for test knitting then rejected.
Technically the yarn is rejected thus undesirable. But the ball was knitted from but is not yet a finished object, thus the ball is still in play. It's a tricky situation, and really is a judgement call on the gnome's part. I would guess the Knitpicks yarn on the right would be ignored while the Socks That Rock yarn on the left would be raided, especially if the gnome has a deep love of blues and greens.
Anyways, the thieving yarn gnomes enter the gentle knitter's home in the dead of night and unwind the ball of yarn the knitter is currently knitting with. They then cut yarn from the opposite end of the ball. Then those sneaky gnomes re-roll the balls so the poor knitter has no idea anything has happened. Precious yards of yarn gone, with no clue they ever existed.
Now in my frustration and fears of a yarn shortage I might be painting the yarn gnomes in an unfairly unflattering light. Call them evil might be a bit of a stretch. Calling them ugly is probably going a bit too far. The yarn gnomes, while sounding evil, are not truly malicious. They are not out to short the knitter precious yarn and ruin a project. They just truly love yarn. And usually the yarn they take is never missed, taking only a foot here, a yard there.
But I am working with a yarn deficit to begin with.
The precious inches lost to the yarn gnomes could mean the difference between wearable sleeves and unflatteringly short sleeves. It could be the difference between finishing the sweater triumphant and frogging it in shameful defeat.
I must knit the yarn before the gnomes can steal my yarn.
Must knit faster.