Ode To The Perfect Skien
Oh Perfect Skein,
I see you there, perched at the very top of my yarn shelf like a tiny fiber deity, glowing softly under the only light in the house allowed to stay on because I “might” be back soon enough to warrant the price of LED electricity use. You are gorgeous. You are ethereal. You are the David Tennant of my stash. And much like if I ever met The Doctor IRL…I have absolutely no idea what I’d do.
You weren’t an impulse buy. No. You were The Moment. I remember the day we met: I walked into the yarn shop to find something to match a project I let languish too long and there you were - hand-dyed, color-shifting, luxuriously squishy. You whispered, “Take me home.” I whispered back, “You’re twenty dollars more than I planned to spend.” And yet, somehow, you ended up in my bag.
When I got home I took you out of the bag as my husband walked in and sighed…”what are you going to make with it?”
And I say the same thing, every time:
“I dunno…”
Because, let’s be honest, Perfect Skein: you are too good for my nonsense. You deserve the right pattern, the right hook, the right cosmic alignment in the yarniverse. You deserve a pattern where the stitch definition is shown off, the colorway sings, and my creativty doesn’t go TOO feral.
But I am over trying to read other people’s patterns, and can only use you once I’ve mastered one of my own that would be worthy of you. I’ve queued shawls, cowls, hats, and cardigans that are far too precious to risk on something in Beta….
So there you sit. Unwound. A pristine fiber icon. My ‘someday’ magnum opus. But that’s OK. Maybe some yarn is destined to wait, or not for crafting at all. Some is just for admiring. Art comes in many forms - including sitting on a shelf, flirting with me from across the room (looking at you Van Gogh.)
But someday, I may be ready. The planets will be in retrograde or not in retrograde or whatever is helpful at the time. And I will pick you up, inhale your woolly perfection, and say:
“Alright, sheep. Your time has come.”
Until then, my beloved skein, shine on. Continue being my inspiration, my motivation, and my slightly intimidating yarn judge.
With love and unreasonable reverence,
A crocheter who is emotionally unprepared to commit to winding you into a cake.