My Name is Henya, and I am a Yarnocholic. It has been an addiction for many years now. The whole thing have started innocently enough, with just a few skeins of yarn. Yet now I can barely survive a day without breathing in wool fumes (if there is no wool, I make do with bamboo, alpaca or camel).
I have to admit. I hoard yarn. I crave it and actually arrange my life around yarn buying opportunities. For example, you will not catch me in Boro Park on a Wednesday. Why – because that is the day the yarn store is closed. Similarly, I drag my DH out to Williamsburg in the evenings. Why? So I could oh, so casually mention, that I would like to stop in and see what is new in the LYS there. But it does not just end with Brooklyn. We always visit our family in Maryland in the first week of May. Those who love Maryland Sheep and Wool will not need to ask why.
Talk about feeding the addiction!
And then there is the Internet. For instance Yarnarian – walking away from her blog without buying one of her lovely handpaints is practically impossible.
Who can resist these beautiful skeins?! Not I!
At this point I have been diagnosed with SABLE – Stash Acquisition Beyond Life Expectancy and there is only one thing that gives me hope. My Grandmother’s stash. Not that she lets me rummage in there. But like all of us addicts she can not resist showing off her favorites. Some of them are older than me. A lot older.
This Monday we have to travel to Philadelphia. We need some papers from City Hall. One of my most favorite yarn shops is there. I hope they are open.