Yarn has a way of finding me . . . .

The thing about being a knitter or a crocheter, even a relatively new one, is that eventually yarn starts finding you instead of the other way around.

Case in point: 4 skeins of acrylic fluff lurking at the bottom of a box that arrived from my mother. They were on clearance, only a dollar each, so how could she resist? She got me one of each color.

This wouldn't be so funny, if not for the fact that I am in the process of assembling a box for HER full of yarns I am destashing, including much acrylic fluff. The fact that new yarn closely resembles my arch-nemisis Devine only adds to the hilarity.

My resolution: In the future, I will work on not feeling guilty about de-stashing, reusing or simply not using "gifts of yarn." Because, really the burden on my soul just isn't worth it. The unfinished afgan from my mother-in-law, cast offs from others in my knitting group, gifts from my mother--the guilt over not using these yarns is simply not worth it. I will not feel obligatedt to find a home for every stray scrap of yarn that comes my way. I will not feel the need to make something out of the offending yarn for the giver UNLESS requested, and I will work to educate those who love my items about quality yarns.

Now if only the good stuff would "find me" . . . . . . . . . .