40 Days of Stash Management

Last Wednesday was Ash Wednesday, marking the first day of Lent. I am a Proddy of the Baptist variety. We generally do not make a big production of Lent. Fish on Friday isn't a requirement and fasting from a particular food, food group, or activity is embraced by some and ignored by others, again not a requirement for us. Yet, I have been thinking in a more global way about the entire concept and season of Lent and its pagan roots.

One of the aspects of modern society is this concept that we are a global, 24-7, shop until your plastic melts, all about me, individualist, conformity driven culture. I think about how rapidly things move now compared to even 100 years ago. Now don't get me wrong, I am not one to view with blind romanticism days of yore. Let's face it, ye olde times stank. Peasants worked the fields under the yoke of authoritarian kings, shyte covered the streets, deodorant a futuristic marvel, and regular bathing eschewed as decadent. This is not something for modern culture to aspire to just because life was slower back then. I do enjoy, however, a time to slow down and to breathe. The season of Lent affords me that opportunity after the holiday hangover that seems to last well into February.

In essence, Lent Christianized the pagan season of planning for the new year’s planting and emerging from the end of winter. In an agrarian culture, this time of rest and renewal would be the last until well after harvest in the fall. It was a time of restrained celebration if the food lasted the winter because spring was just around the corner. It is a time to take stock and make plans for the season of planting to come. After the darkness of winter, the bright, airy days of spring appear. The longer days meant more time to work to feed and clothe yourself. The brighter days with less precipitation gave you a chance to air out your house after 12 stinky people had lived virtually shut up inside since Thanksgiving. Spring had a lot to recommend it.

As I sat working on the Elfin Lace shawl in my room surrounded by some of my stash, I began to take stock of my knitting world. Things are terribly disorganized. There are babies on the way that require hats and booties, but the baby yarn could be in one of three places. I have a couple of sweaters on the needles for my nephew, both at the same stage hanging out waiting for me to find the last ball of yarn to finish them. My sock yarn bin looks like it is hung over and barfed all over the sides. The single point knitting needle divorce and separation rate looks very, very high. Entire families of double points have migrated to places unknown, with little double pointed black sheep needles taking up residence with their little hippy friends, who knows where. I will spare you the unholy scene I found in one of my knitting bags. Suffice it to saw it bordered on needing a full-bore exorcism of the movie variety.

So, my goal for the next 40 or so days will be to organize my stash and finish some projects. If I get ambitious, I may document my knitting room organization progress with photos, although that may be a little too real. Contrary to popular belief, I do have some vestiges of shame.

To that end, I have gotten some new bins, an additional roll of label tape for the label maker, and some extra sanity pills. Now all I have to do is sacrifice some knitting time to do it before the yarn stages a revolution.