I hope I sound neither glib nor alarmist about the Economy
when I say that I am happy that I have invested so heavily in yarn.  Not yarn companies, but in skeins of
yarn.  What knitters affectionately call
The Stash.  

We watch dreams, labors, treasures melt into nothing as
numbers in computers shuffle around.  So,
I am relieved to know that I have something solid and valuable tucked safely
away in an actual cabinet where I can go and, literally, put my hands on it.

Once upon a time, textiles were considered a tally-able part
of a person’s wealth. They were listed in wills, dowries, and business
arrangements.  Just like silver or
jewelry or furniture or a house.  A pair
of socks was a business asset.

The wool yarn I bought 10 years ago has as much value, as
much potential as it did when new (unless the cats have gotten to it – that
would be, I suppose, a capital loss?). 
It could still become the sweater I originally intended.  Or it could be made up into socks or an
afghan or a dinosaur or a tea cozy.  It
could sit there another 10 years without losing value.  It doesn’t go out of style or become
obsolete.

Yarn is not only full of creative potential, it holds life
energy:  the work of carding, spinning,
dyeing — as well as the flora or fauna power that grew the fiber, as well as the
sunlight that fueled the blade of grass (that fed the sheep) or the cotton
leaf.

Now I kind of feel like my Stash could explode!

So, I am not apologizing for the size of my Stash today.  I am simply grateful for it.