The Stashaholic and the Stash Detective

The following was originally sent to the KnitList by Pat and appears here with her permission.

——–Original Message———

A Confession?

Okay, I ‘fess up. I do it; and I am NOT sorry. I AM A FIBERHOLIC.

I stash my stashes.

Is there a ten step rehabilitation program for it? If there is; keep it far away from me.

I stay at home, I raised my family, I do all the wifely and mom things. I am a good person. I have nothing to be ashamed of, or feel guilty for.

I do not waste money. But I am married to a fiber detective. He smells stash when it comes into the house. He does not share my hobbies or my interests; but that is alright. He has some I do not understand or share.

I am intense in my love of pretty yarns, knitting, or spinning glorious colored, fantastic feeling fibers. His pursuits satisfy something in him.

Mine also satisfy something in me.

So, I stash my stashes when they come home. Then bring them out into the open and work on them. I preserve the peace and harmony, and he is happy.

And this fiberholic stasher is also very fulfilled and satisfied.

I know I am not a lone Fiberholic stasher, married to a fiber detective. How does that go? Men are from Mars; women are from Venus? Oh, well. It would be a dull old world if we saw eye to eye on everything. And I think he rather enjoys the knowledge that I have stashed something. I know he is proud of the recognition I recieve for my work.

Women are notorious nest builders: I just pad mine in soft, downy stash!!!!


Copyright © 2000 by Pat. All Rights Reserved.

No portion of this document may be copied in any format without the written consent of the copyright holder.

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