Yarn Envy

Envy is an ugly word.  What it really means is that you want something that belongs to someone and not to content with just feeling that, you want to take it off them.  And technically, the yarn doesn't really belong to anyone else anyway; it's available to purchase but having a non-existent yarn budget, I... Continue Reading →

It has come to my attention that I like wool.  No, not wool as in yarn, as any self-respecting knitter has to, but wool as in sheep fluff string.  I love the feel of it.  I love the smell of it.  Is that weird?  I want to be wrapped in woollens, preferably of my own fabrication.... Continue Reading →


Yarn, in my experience of this country, is always called 'wool' but tends to be made from acrylic, slightly confusingly.  Yarn, or 'wool', usually comes in balls, you talk about balls of wool (although not necessarily of this fibre) and the language doesn't really expand from there.  Sometimes I feel that knitting in this country... Continue Reading →

Natural in Another World

I grew up in a world of woolly jumpers.  And cardies.  Some of them were classic, heavy, fairisle jumpers which had started life in my father's possession but after so many years and washes made it to my mother before finally being cast on to me.  Slightly strange but true.  I hated woolly jumpers.  They... Continue Reading →

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