An Inelegant Sufficiency of Yarn...

So I started packing up my yarn for the move.

Not all my yarn, you understand. Just the yarn I'm absolutely certain I won't need in the next 10 days before I move. So I made a very sensible analysis of the situation - clearly I need my February Lady yarn. And I need the yarn for Jaime's socks (man, I should finish those, huh?) and I need a couple skeins of alpaca in case I go hat knitting crazy. And it's probably best not to put away the rest of the sock yarn for now. And I need to keep my pet skein out so I can admire it's gradients in times of stress...

So I was diligently packing the rest of my yarn and I realized... Gosh, I've got a lot of yarn.

I've always maintained that I have an elegant sufficiency of yarn. That is, enough yarn. Not too much, not too little.. just exactly enough for my purposes. Now granted, some of my purposes involve owning yarn. I like the look of happy skeins on a shelf, waiting to become awesome. I like flicking through Ravelry and knowing I can knit most patterns I see without searching for the right yarn. But even still, I've always protested when people tell me I have a lot of yarn. I mean, it's all still in one room. A room it shares with both my computer, my giant computer desk, a cat tree, and the spinning stuff. If it still fits (barely) in that crowded room, it can hardly be all that much!

But actually packing the stuff and carrying it all downstairs to the box storage area we have previously called a kitchen I've been forced to admit it - I have enough yarn to open up a small modest sized yarn shop. A very specific kind of yarn shop, to be sure. A yarn shop devoted entirely to high quality natural fiber yarns with an unusual proportion of hand dyed, hand spun skeins. A yarn shop that would inspire my customers to long philosophical considerations and deep questions.

Questions like, "Hey. What's with all the blue? Why not some green or something?!"

I think I'll call it the Blue Ewe :D