There’s been a definite nip in the air these past few weeks. Even when the day dawns bright and sunny, so sunny that Kitty and I have to have the oft repeated discussion about how sunshine does not equal hot, at least not when you live in Warwickshire, and no a sundress is not suitable clothing for the day unless you want to add tights and a long sleeved t-shirt to the mix, there’s been an undercurrent of crispness, a little bite in the early morning air to put roses in our cheeks as we head out to nursery.
There’s been rain too, but not the steaming rain of the summer when you watched it drizzle down, noses pressed to the back door, longing for it to stop so you could rush outside again, but a steady drizzle punctuated with phenomenal cloud burst and stunning rainbows to follow, rain to make you reach for the soup pot, the wooly socks and the central heating switch, rain to make you hibernate.
And whether it’s the season or some overdue pregnancy hormones making a last hurrah I am nesting. Properly nesting. Well for me anyway. And no that doesn’t mean I’ve discovered a strong an unnatural urge to do. The housework, or that we’re very much, if at all, further forward on the grand studio makeover, although I did move the bookcase into its new position last week so that definitely counts, you just have to overlook the piles of boxes on the floor that still need sorting.
No, nesting for me means yarn, and fibre, and fabric and a million and one plans of all the things I’m going to make in that time which I don’t have.
We will be warm and cozy this winter because (a) we live in England and (b) we have central heating, so why does autumn make me want to prepare as if we’re about to face a blizzard armed with nothing more than what I can make? (You don’t need to answer that one!)
So I started with the yarn stash. Once upon a time my yarn lived in a small plastic box on a shelf in my room in my house in London. That was a long time ago! Now it takes up all of a Billy bookcase with doors on and a few skeins and baskets and odd balls found lying around the house. And yet whenever I saw a project on Ravelry or on someone else’s blog that I really really wanted to make I never seemed to have the right yarn or enough yarn, just a cupboard full of odd balls and projects that I haven’t got round to yet. So I pulled it all out. Apart from the sock yarn stash which has a whole shelf of its own I filled three Ikea cubes, and I’m sure there’s still a few odd bits and bobs lying around the place.
And then the sorting began, first into piles by weight and then the harder bit, the letting go bit. I think I was pretty ruthless, at least I tried to be. It’s obvious to keep the sweater’s worths, the yarn where I know what it wants to be, but there were a good few odd balls in the mix too, leftovers from a previous project or just bought to swatch and experiment with. And a whole heap of those have gone in the donate bag. To find new lives either with friends who knit for charity or in Kitty’s art room at nursery.
I’m sure I’ve kept more than I should but I’ve made a little mental note to do this again next year and there are a few things that have got a year to be knit up before they too find themselves on the art project list.
And in a fit of obsessive organisation I’ve also been putting what I kept into my Ravelry page, and rearranging my queue and tidying out my favourites. I found so much that I’d forgotten I had, probably because there can be quite a gap between the buying and the knitting nowadays, and it feels oddly comforting to be able to see it all at a glance, to know that the only thing I’m going to need to make a Christmas jumper for Pip is the pattern and a handful of buttons because the yarn is right there waiting for me.
Even though the realist in me knows that I’m not going to knit through my entire stash this winter, or probably get to even half the projects I’m planning in my head, there’s something oddly comforting about knowing that it’s there ready and waiting. And now terribly terribly organised!