Yarn Porn

I know, I know: I'm a writer.

But my friend Kris started knitting again, and I see all the funky things she is creating, so while she and I were in the Adirondacks earlier this month, I wandered into the yarn section of the Old Forge Hardware Store.

Oh. My. Goodness.

It's obscene.

I spent way too much money replacing my crochet hooks (which X-Chromo lost), a pattern book, and sufficient yarn to crochet a fashion scarf for X. An easy pattern to ease me back into the artsy-craftsy portion of my brain.

X-Chromo was thrilled -- I chose that shade of green so dear to her heart. I said, "It's not as fuzzy as the scarf your aunt bought you a couple of years ago." X-Chromo said: "Auntie didn't make it for me."

I finished it last night. The photo is of X-Chromo modeling it.

Today, I bought yarn on line. I am going to make myself a shell from the same pattern book . . . a shell to replace a crocheted shell I bought from a street vendor in Greenwich Village over Thanksgiving weekend, 1988. I love that shell. But it's getting a little ratty. So I decided that I'm going to create my own replacement.

Finding the right weight of yarn was tough. I never realized that the variety available has exploded in the past 20 years. When Kris and I stood in front of the rows of skeins in Old Forge a few weeks ago, I understood why she calls it Yarn Porn.