Holy...Yarn

Last year, I was at a Newcomers' lunch and one of the women came up to me and said that she used to knit but hadn't in a long time, and she'd decided that she wasn't going to go back to it, so she wanted to clear out the yarn she had, and did I want it. (I always knit at the lunches, so I am Known as a knitter.)

If you've been reading here very long, you know that my answer to that question is always yes. She said she had to go through things, but she would let me know, and I said no problem, of course, no rush. A few months later, at another lunch, we bumped into each other and she mentioned it again, that she was still planning to get to it. No rush.

Yesterday was the day. She came by, and her vehicle was full of huge black garbage bags.

Eleven of them. Here they are in the garage.

So.

Much.

Yarn.

(Two of the bags were full of project bags, so many different sizes and types, so many bags.)

And it's good yarn! Lots of Baah (La Jolla and Sonoma and others), and Madeline Tosh, some Anzula, a little Noro, Malabrigo, brands I've never heard of, oh, and an absolute shit-ton of Hedgehog. I've been going through it in amazement. I swear, in my life in Massachusetts, this never used to happen to me, and now the yarn keeps finding me in Florida. (This is NOT a complaint.)

The amount I'm keeping for myself would be a huge, huge shopping spree by my standards. It isn't a tenth of what came in. I just can't get over this.

I hurt all over, though. This should count as a workout: lifting weights! Well, my doctor wants me to do weight-bearing exercise, and I just did. So much weight bearing. So happily.