A Stash of One's Own: Knitters on Loving, Living with, and Letting Go of Yarn

by Clara Parkes

A new, addictive-to-read collection of essays and stories celebrating yarn—specifically, the knitter’s reputation for acquiring it in large quantities and storing it away in what’s lovingly referred to as a “stash.” The pieces in this collection span from comical to earnest, lighthearted to deeply philosophical, in a celebration of the how, why, when, and what of stashes each knitter has accumulated over the years. We’ll hear from bestselling authors, designers, yarn-store owners, essayists, sheep farmers, mill owners, and the people behind the world’s largest collective online stash, Ravelry.com.

Genres: Knitting, Nonfiction, Essays, Crafts, Memoir, Anthologies, Audiobook

192 pages, Paperback

First published September 12, 2017

About the author

CLARA PARKES left her career in the booming high-tech industry to pursue her love of knitting. She lives on the coast of Maine in a farmhouse full of yarn. She is the publisher of KnittersReview.com and a contributor to Interweave Knits."

Reviews

[Eva Müller · Rating 3 out of 5]

Asking a knitter what he or she plans on doing with the yarn he or she just bought is like asking a squirrel what it plans on doing with that nut it just buried under a pile of leaves. Obviously we plan on using it. Now? Later? For what? How can we know? Our main priority is simply to get that yarn safely back home and stored away in our stash. We’ll know when we need it.

I read this book to have a good time and I’m honestly feeling so attacked right now…

As it is the case with anthologies you get a mixed bag with this book. In Stashers: Who the heck are we? Lela Nargi simply wrote out some Ravelry stats about stash. I could never get much out of these “If you put all these together it would be enough to do X” things. Blame my failure to imagine measurements of any kind properly. Or the fact that for me 17 times to the moon and back and 100 times to the moon and back both boils down to ‘a bloody lot’.

But you also get a hilarious story by the Yarn Harlot about having too much stash, dealing with it and still having a lot that manages to describe the reason she is keeping a skein that looks like “Barbie and My Little Pony dropped acid and tried to come up with a colorway” in a rather touching way.

In another essay, Amy Herzog insists that she doesn’t have any stash. The yarn she has at home isn’t a stash. Never mind that it’s a lot more than I have in my two IKEA boxes (and that additional bag with sock yarn leftovers…) and that that yarn she has at home is not intended for specific projects which is for me the only reason to consider it not stash.

But then there’s also a beautiful essay by Franklin Habit (of It Itches-fame) talks about dealing with being a boy that wasn’t interested in typical masculine pursuits and then with the loss of his mother which was very moving.

After some outstanding (good and bad) stories, in the beginning, everything blurs together in the middle. Every essay seems to be some variation of ‘this is how I started knitting’ followed by ‘this is my stash’ and ‘this is when I realized it was too much and this is how I dealt with it’. Optionally accompanied by a story that is only vaguely/not at all connected to knitting and that sometimes takes more space than the parts about knitting. Somewhere in between a psychologist explains how much stash is too much and requires outside help (I don’t have that much).

Then, in the last third or so, we get some variety again. Lilith Green’s Work in Progress talks about her body image issues and how that also affected her knitting (and stashing) habits: muted colours, nothing that stands out, nothing that draws attention. And how she finally came to the conclusion that “I stash for the body I have now and will have for years to come. Not for the body others think I should have, or that I think I should have, but this body here and now.” while also admitting that loving her body is still ‘a work in progress’.

Here’s the thing. As makers, we fix things. That’s what we do. It’s our superpower. We’re good at it. When it comes to grief and loss, though, there’s no fixing.

A few more essays tell very personal stories about knitting as a way of dealing with loss and grief. For me, Comfort Yarn by Rachael Herron stood out especially but the others were great as well.

We also get A Proper Stash which has very little to do with (yarn or fabric) stash but sounds uncomfortably white saviour-y in parts. Eugene Wyatt’s On Giving is the essay that sounds most like self-promotion. It also opens with a quote by Anne Frank.
Allow me to throw a deeply-felt fuck you at that level of emotional manipulation. And finally, we look at Yarn as a Feminist Issue which makes some great points. Unfortunately, the writing is so condescending in some parts that I want to disagree out of spite.

So what do I think of the whole collection? It was…nice. The good stories (especially Comfort Yarn, Work in Progress and Habit’s Her Pretty String) were so good that I don’t feel like I’ve wasted my time with this. Despite some boredom (and anger). Am I saying this is a must-have for a knitter? No. Listen to a crafting podcast (I suggest The Crafting System or their sister-podcast On Pins and Needles) and knit some of your stash instead.

[Sharon · Rating 5 out of 5]

I read this in small installments when I had a few moments to just sit and relax. I do not knit, I crochet. The facts are the same. I have a stash. My husband built full depth, floor to ceiling, shelves for me in half of a double closet to contain my stash. I also have an entire wall of bookshelves of craft books for just about every craft out there ,with an entire bank of crochet and knitting books (others in my family knit). My stash is mostly hands off without asking for others, although there are a few shelves open for grabs.
This book was a delightful insight into how others deal with this. I loved reading these stories. It reinforced the importance of yarn to those of us who love working with our hands. and gave me a glimpse of others who do.

[Barbara · Rating 5 out of 5]

Clara Parkes is my favorite writer about knitting. In this book, she edits a collection of essays from people she invited to write about the topic of the yarn they have in their stash. Stash in this context means yarn (mostly). However, in many of the essays the writers talked about mothers who knit or did other kinds of work (we don't call it crafts but that's an essay in itself) with fiber and fabric.

The essays about mothers who knit were my favorite because my mother knit. She did little of it as I grew because taking care of 6 children, one of whom was deaf, and a husband in the military and at times who was sent overseas while we stayed behind, didn't leave her any leisure time. I have a memory of her telling me she once knit argyll socks. I became a knitter in college and haven't looked back since then.

Two of the essays were by women I've met and (kind of) know:) In 2015, I spent a week on a tour of Shetland with Gudrun Johnston, a Shetland native who lives in the US, and Aimée Osbourn-Gille, an ex-pat American who has a yarn store and a tea room in Paris where she lives with her 2 children and French husband. Their essays were my favorites because they both had mothers who knit, and sadly, all three of us no longer have our mothers with us.

I love Franklin Habit's essay because as a boy his father berated him for being a "sissy", bought him a BB gun, and pushed him to act more masculine. His essay reveals the complex intersections between needlecraft, gender and sexuality that impact both men and women. I remember a story told by a fantastic lesbian yarn shop owner in San Francisco who bought a yarn store business from a woman in a southern state who told her that lesbians don't own yarn stores. Debbie Stoller's essay on yarn as a feminist issue is another great exploration of women's issues in a humorous (as always) way. Since the election of the current US president, a number of women in the knitting community have come forward in various ways and made it clear that knitters are not apolitical wuses. The clearest symbol of this are the Pussy Hats knit for the Women's March on Washington.
http://www.huffingtonpost.com/entry/t...
Someone in the White House reportedly commented about all the "made-in-China" hats worn by the protesters - not realizing they were handknit here in America. Plus those I knit were made with domestic yarn I bought from indie dyers at Vogue Knitting Live in NY in early January.

This is a book for all knitters and those who love them:)

[penny shima glanz · Rating 5 out of 5]

Within this collection, Parkes and 22 essayists help us to examine our own personal meaning for that often loaded word, Stash. In addition, beyond our own definitions, we can think about how we and our stash (or lack thereof) fit as part of the global fiber community. What are the stories we hear in our stash? Do we whisper its secrets? Where is its place in our homes and in our lives?

I believe strongly in the power of books to come along when we most need them. This essay anthology appeared in my e-reader as I was reexamining my own stash under not-quite-ideal circumstances. Following a hip replacement and the loss of her long-time boyfriend, my mother had temporarily moved into my studio resulting in my yarn and fiber finding their way to any available nook and cranny in the rest of my house. As I selected items for her new downsized life, I rediscovered connections within my stash. Her favourite shawl is back under my roof for the first time since I knit it several years ago, and I still have yarn available to perform repairs if necessary. At times this upheaval has felt overwhelming and isolating. This anthology has reassured me every day that I'm not alone.

I'm also not alone in my dream that my archive of yarn, fiber, and notebooks will endure long beyond me. Nor for the hope that I can fit everything into four plastic bins and set off on a global adventure. I also am in good company when I want to look for yarn for a project that must be cast on right here and now - that it's 10:30pm is of no logical importance.

I appreciate the variety of voices and the pacing of the essays. While you could skip around and read each essay in any order you choose, I believe the full magic is found when curled up amid one's stash, favourite comfort beverage in hand, and read through cover to cover.

No matter your views to yarn and fiber stash, you are not alone.

This review also appeared at knitty.com.

I received an eARC of this title from NetGalley in exchange for a review. The FTC wants you to know.

[Sophy H · Rating 5 out of 5]

I bloody love this book! Although I'm a crocheter rather than a knitter (though I occasionally dabble with the needles!), the tales of these women resonated so so much.

Creating something from a few balls of yarn is such a soothing, healing, cathartic process that has helped me through some dark times. Our stashes are the safety blankets we wrap ourselves in to ensure that we can always have our healing craft supply to hand.

I am a self-confessed stasher, I'm proud and I stand with these stash women! 🧶🧶🧶🧶🧶

[Toni · Rating 4 out of 5]

Great compilation of wonderful stories by knitters of all ages and backgrounds. Very enjoyable, and I haven't knitted in years! (I want to though.) 😉

Thanks to my Goodreads friend Barbara (Lit.Prof.from Maryland) who made me aware of this delightful book.

[Charlene Dean · Rating 1 out of 5]

Don't know why I bothered reading this. It was full of uninspired pieces about stashing (or not) yarn. I have a yarn stash so thought I could find, at least, some of these stories relevant, humorous, or even enlightening. They were not. In fact, one piece about feminism and stashing yarn seemed very condescending and slightly offensive. My stash is my business and I don't care what anyone thinks, but I certainly don't see it as a weapon for equality.

[Corrie · Rating 5 out of 5]

I'm so skeptical of "writing about knitting" books because the few times I've tried knitting essay anthologies, the writing has been unbearably bad. This is the opposite!
Each essayist writes in a unique voice that is funny, honest, and/or raw, and the large majority of the essays have great pacing. Who knew so many people in the knitting world also had writing chops? Oh, yea, they're creative types.
I especially loved Debbie Stoller's eponymous entry and all the various jabs at KonMari. Props to Anna Maltz for calling out the "romanticism of poverty" behind minimalism. Definitely recommend to fellow yarn addicts with or without anxiety about their stashes. As someone who recently did a purge but still houses a large yarn stash, I was worried about this being a big self-help, here's how to organize your life book that would leave me feeling ashamed. Yet, the moral of the collection is "you do you--just don't become a hoarder."

I devoured this in one morning, and I only wish there were more stories coming. Clara Parkes, hit me up if you need contributors to a vol. 2. ;)



Thanks to NetGalley for the advanced copy!

[Vannetta Chapman · Rating 5 out of 5]

I absolutely loved this collection of essays about knitting. Many of them brought tears to my eyes (which rarely happens), and all of them were either entertaining or informative.

I consider myself a beginning knitter even after several years of doing so. I can read a pattern now--but barely. I honestly don't understand my fascination with knitting, and I don't have much of a "stash." This book helped me to see that knitting is something we pass down through generations--like story telling, or a love of a music, or an appreciation of the outdoors. It also helped me understand that knitting is an act of self-care, and I don't have to have a reason for doing it. The "doing" is a form of remembering, of relaxing, and ultimately of connecting with others.

Highly recommend.

[Carole at From My Carolina Home · Rating 3 out of 5]

Collection of essays about having a stash of supplies, written by knitters about yarn. Substitute fabric for yarn and it works for quilters too. Some of the essays will make you think, some may irritate you, some are just bland, and some touch the heart. As many of us believe, sometimes the stash is there just to be petted and inspire creativity, and there is nothing wrong with a well rounded 'resource center' as I like to call my fabric/thread/notions stash. Here is a book that will help you feel good about saving scraps, you are not alone.

[Morgan Nikola-Wren · Rating 5 out of 5]

My favorite book on knitting that I have read this year! (And I'm currently on my fourth.) These essays--all of them--are little gems or decadent chocolate truffles: tiny but truly complex and splendid. Personal, insightful, sometimes hilarious, sometimes heartbreaking. Sure, the book's about yarn. But it's also about humanity, loss, complicated families, adventures, and the way people (specifically artists/creators of all kinds) deal with these issues as they arise.

Even if you're not a knitter, there is plenty to be enjoyed in here. Just pick up this cozy hug of a book and let these stories wrap themselves around you.

[Sarah]

I find knitting very calming (except for all the cursing/profanity) and apparently I find reading about other people knitting very calming, too. Some of the essays were profound, nearly all were enjoyable, and the book made me feel better about my own yarn stash, which until recently fit in a zip-up tote the size of a sleeping bag but somehow has become double that, and which is apparently tiny.

[Morgan · Rating 5 out of 5]

This book was a delight. If you’re a knitter, read it!

“A woman’s growing stash is a monument to her never-ending, happily-ever-after love affair with yarn; to the ongoing respect for her craft; and to the value of doing something just for herself”

[Stephanie · Rating 2 out of 5]

A book with a promising start, however I quickly got bored and became uninterested after the second essay in the book.

There are also a lot of statements that I simply can’t fathom or understand. For example there’s a woman (think it was the third essay, but I honestly can’t remember) who’s a designer and has enough yarn to knit for a year, but says that her yarn doesn’t constitute a stash. She uses another word for it. I mean, what?! Just call a spade a spade. Don’t make it more complicated than it is.

Also another woman talks about organising your yarn stash and references Marie Kondo’s method: does it bring you joy or not? If not, just get rid of it. This does make sense. But she also mentions that another way is just to get rid of all your yarn and start from scratch - why?! Yarn is money and normal people aren’t made of money, plus that’s just so wasteful.

As someone who has only been knitting for a few years, I know that there’s still a lot to learn about the craft. And I get the feeling that these essays are written by older American knitting designers who I feel like I should know, but I’ve never heard of them. Maybe it’s because I’m fairly young and I live in Scandinavia, so perhaps I’m the wrong demographic? This fact definitely contributed to me loosing interest fairly quickly.

I can’t recommend this book to other people keen on knitting or other fibre artists.

[Laura · Rating 5 out of 5]

I really enjoyed this collection. 4.5 stars. Eminently readable for a lover of yarn, the essays run the gamut from humorous to serious, the collections described from minimalist to SABLE-level, and the stashes from yarn to fiber to fabric.

Some of my favorites essays: I loved the beautiful and generous spirit behind Jillian' Moreno's fiber stash, and how easily it flows into her own creativity and to others. I appreciated Eugene Wyatt's tale of giving yarn away - it was a good reminder of how much you gain from giving instead of trying to get money before you'll let go. Franklin Habit's essay gave me all the feels and brought me to tears twice (on the bus commuting to work, no less!) - from the joy of reconciliation and recognition, and the sadness of loss.

Perhaps the most moving to me was Lilith Green's story of how her stash is part and parcel of growing to love her body - the one that society was always telling her wasn't good enough. I have three lots of sweater quantities in my stash, purchased 8-10 years ago, and I still haven't knit myself a sweater. Maybe it's time to stop waiting for the body I may never have and knit a sweater for the one I have. Also, I immediately followed her on Instagram after reading the essay - I want more people like her in my social media.

And, of course, I thought a lot about my own yarn and fiber stash when reading the essays. I'd _like_ to be a minimalist collector of yarn, buying when I'm ready to cast on, but I'm not. (I probably have 10 years' worth of knitting in my stash*, in part because I'm a slow knitter, but also because I'm a spinner. About a quarter of my stash is fiber, and about half of my yarn is my handspun.) I try to knit from stash - and I like that when I jumped on the Find Your Fade bandwagon, I was able to pull two Fade sets from my stash. (I also like it, that after I finish knitting those Fades, my sock yarn stash may be small enough that I couldn't do that again).

I do feel weighed down by the burden of all my yarn, even though I have culled it enough that most of what remains is yarn I really do love. I think I'll take some inspiration from this book to give some yarn away, especially some of that handspun I don't have projects in mind for, and open myself up to maintaining my stash through generosity, as several essayists have recommended. And embrace that sometimes the spinning is all the project ends up being.

* My Ravelry user name is potentialofyarn and my stash is up to date :-)

[Annie · Rating 4 out of 5]

If one thing is pretty much universal about knitting nerds it's 'The Stash'. We joke about it, sometimes feel guilty about it, sometimes revel in it... in short, most of us can't pass up a sale, charity resale shop, going out of business sale (*sigh*), or any other place which has the potential for stash enrichment without at least having a look. There are, apparently, knitters who have one project going at a time and who buy supplies for that project and only that project, knit on it until it's finished and then move on... those people are outliers... they are not in the statistical norm.

We knitters even have acronyms built up from our shared experience... LYS (Local Yarn Shop), SABLE (Stash Acquired Beyond Life Expectancy), WIP (Work In Progress), UFO (UnFinished Object) and a million others.

This book is a collection of essays and musings by some of the best known knitters and designers, authors and fibre-philosophers. A casual look at Ravelry or Craftsy will contain page after page of patterns or mentions of the contributors to this book. The book contains an introduction (worth reading!), 23 essays (ditto) and closes with an 'about the authors' section that is well worth taking notes from to inspire follow up reading.

The voices in this volume are varied, as in all such compilations. You'll find whimsy and serious reflection. I tried to read this collection as a box of chocolates, one at a time, savoring the individual nuances.. but honestly read it like I generally eat a box of chocolates, having 'just one more' until the box is empty.

Lovely book, and not just for us knitting fanatics. I think it's a good window into our stashing mindset and justifications... so if you're close to a knitter, this could explain a lot.

Four stars
Disclosure: I received an ARC at no cost from the author/publisher.

[Barbara VA · Rating 5 out of 5]

An anthology about stashes of yarn and so much more. I freely admit that I do have stashes - books, yarn, fabric, cds, movies, cans of tomatoes, spices (especially paprika). We have a decent sized home, I have room. My daughter has moved to her own home but we do have custody of her books and t-shirts, dolls and unicorns for the day her daughter is ready for them, our son collects books and drums. My husband also collects books (do you sense a theme!?!), tools, chairs (we once counted that we could host 90 people for dinner and not rent a single chair!) and wood. Do you have any idea how much room collecting chairs and wood takes?

I enjoyed this so much. I nodded, laughed, cried, read pieces to my son and husband, went to check on the yarns next to my chair and to fondle them, made a trip to my LYS and found a passage that spoke to me so much I put it on my Facebook page. I rest my case!

[Malia · Rating 4 out of 5]

This is a really lovely collection of essays, probably the best knitting writing I've come across. What I loved is thinking about my own yarn stash, and how my feelings about it flow into various viewpoints expressed in the essays. It's amazing how something can be inspirational and stressful and invigorating and overwhelming and comforting all at the same time. I also loved the concept of stashing as a jumping off point for other kinds of explorations, like Franklin Habit's heartbreaking essay about being denied access to fiber arts (patriarchy hurts men, too!). It's a must read for any knitter/crocheter/weaver.

[Karen · Rating 5 out of 5]

I loved this book. Every contributor has the love of yarn and knitting in common with me. I found myself in agreement with so many of the statements in the book and enjoyed reading everyone's thoughts on what a "stash" is and if/how it should be controlled.

[Marie · Rating 5 out of 5]

Lots of good meaty essays here. A non-knitting friend picked it up, read a couple of the essays, and then told me he now understands better how the “stashing” mentality works. So yay!

[Cmfremin · Rating 5 out of 5]

Wonderful book with moving stories..

[Marilyn Gardner · Rating 5 out of 5]

Fascinating set of essays on yarn storage ....giving and getting. I'm now totally committed to my stash.

[Sofie · Rating 5 out of 5]

six stars

[Gillian · Rating 5 out of 5]

I expected to find A Stash of One's Own kinda mediocre. That it would be filled with essays written about things I already know about, similar to how I feel about books detailing what slow fashion is. And it is filled with things I already know about. But I didn't expect it to twist my heart and make me cry.

I love knitting (and other fibre crafts) for a couple of reasons beyond that they're fun to do. I love them because textile production is an ancient craft and is one of the things that makes us human. We learned how to make things to keep ourselves and the ones we love warm, and then we decided to make our outfits fancy. When I cast on, I can remember my grandmother, and her mother, who I never knew, and all generations of the people who contributed to my genetics as they all likely knit, sewed, spun, wove, etc. I am once again 14 and watching my grandmother show me the knit stitch. I am once again 18 and trying to learn how to cast on from a book as my grandmother is gone and I feel desperately compelled to physically make a blanket for a friend who is going through a rough time, because I cannot change her parents' views but I could gift her something soft to keep her warm when she cries.

A lot of the essays talk about how crafting is something that asserts self-care, that you are going to physically take up space and time in your life to do something you enjoy. That is very true, but I was continually struck by the authors talking about how yarn (and by extension craft) is about connection. A sweater is just one long piece of yarn looped together to make a wearable garment. My stash is a physical manifestation of my relationship to myself, the land, and other people I care for as I slowly knit through it.

Do other hobbies do this? The human compulsion to collect things is pretty universal (see also my bookshelves and plant collection). But do woodworkers collect pieces of wood to turn into bowls when they go on vacation? Do amateur bakers collect pie plates from across the country? Do other people do this like knitters and other fibre people do with yarn? I have yarn in my stash I bought when moving across Canada to university, yarn my sister bought me when living in England, yarn people bought me as gifts, yarn I know the mill where I was processed and fleece from a sheep whose name I know. I cried when I finally got rid of the last acrylic from my grandmother's stash years after she passed.

Yarn acts as an anchor to places I've been but is also an object of possibility, of what it can become once on the needles. This doesn't make knitting superior to other hobbies (there's enough of that discourse out there). But it does make it different from my other hobbies of reading, D&D, and keeping many houseplants alive. In one soft ball of yarn, anything is possible and the world is full of love.

[Nico · Rating 4 out of 5]

4.5 stars

So, you could say I've been in a knitting slump. Prior to the cowl I started/finished very recently, I hadn't knot a single FO for about a year. That's the longest dry spell I've had since my Mom bought me a Klutz Knitting book/kit as a kid and I've been obsessed ever since. Also, I really don't read non-fiction. Even in subjects that interest me. It just doesn't hold my attention.

All this to say, out of every book I recieved for Christmas, I picked up the non-fiction anthology on the subject of a hobby I'd abruptly abandoned and entirely devoured it. Also, I cast on a new project. So take that, slump.

I thought I'd get sick of hearing people talking about their stash, but I didn't. I enjoyed hearing different perspectives and experiences, where they overlapped and where they differed. A few stories really spoke to me (Stephanie Pearl-McPhee and Kim McBrien-Evans to name a few). Rachel Atkinson's notion of a yarn library sparked a legitimate discussion with my to-be Librarian sister (I'm told she has charts to show me). Franklin Habit's story made me want to just break down and cry. What a gut punch. And Lela Margo's report of the Ravelry stash numbers made me laugh because I'm absolutely part of those statistics. I technically skewed them because there's no way even half my stash is properly logged online.

My one big gripe here was the lack of male contributors. 21 out of 23 essays were from female-presenting writers (forgive me if I've misgendered anyone) and I'd just would've loved to get more men or GNC contributors represented in a book about a hobby that is stereotypically (even today) considered feminine. Look, I get it, crafting by statistics is still leaning heavily towards women, but trust me, we're not actually that hard to find! I went to buy a suit this summer for a wedding and the older man who happened to fit me turned out to be a knitter/crocheter and he found me a lapel pin with a pattern looking like stockinette stitch. We're absolutely everywhere - even more obviously online - so I would've loved some more representation and time adressing/breaking that stigma.

I will say some contributors (as well as the editor) were LGBTQ+ and I loved seeing that!

Overall this is a love letter to yarn and stash and knitting and spinning and a delightful way to spend some time.

I admit it openly, I do have a stash. It lives in a craft cart in my room, under my bed in a sizable plastic storage bag, and sort of downstairs in a large shopping bag if you count the ones I've mostly come to terms with donating. Should I organize it? I now have some motivation, let me tell you. But will I stop buying yarn simply because of said stash? Let's not get crazy here! There's yarn out there, I say, with gorgeous colourways and luxurious textures, and there will be sales. Rescuing the poor things is the only responsible thing to do. And one day I'll make it into something. Or maybe I won't, and I'll just love it for what it is or remember where/when I bought it. But as long as it serves a purpose, into the stash it goes.

[Jeni Hankins · Rating 5 out of 5]

I've become an instant fan of Clara Parkes' books and it was great to read one in which she features essays of other writers. As would be expected, some of these essays were more relevant to me than others, but I enjoyed the collection thoroughly. More than anything my awareness of the value of wool in the lives of humans has been raised once again. As an avid collector of things and a person who makes an art installation of every space in which I live, discussions of stashes and hoarding versus minimalism resonate strongly. Most of all I enjoyed the essays which connected yarn to family history and personal epiphanies.

[keres · Rating 5 out of 5]

Enjoyed all of the essays in this book - from the sad to the humorous. My top favorites
from this bevy of essays: "Triptych" by the always entertaining Stephanie Pearl-McPhee; "Spinning Stash" by Jillian Moreno; the final essay, "A Stash of One's Own: Yarn as a Feminist Issue," by Debbie Stoller.

[Teri-K · Rating 3 out of 5]

The best essays in this book actually deal with yarn, stashing, and knitting. A few of them really don't, and I don't enjoy them as much. I wish it wasn't so hard to find books about fiber crafts that aren't How-To or patterns, as I do love reading about them when I can. This is worth getting from the library for those who like yarn, reading, and essays.

[Steven Minniear · Rating 5 out of 5]

Now that I know I am a DH (Dear Husband), I want to go on record as saying that this is a fun read and a revealing read. I love the passion, and insight, these author/knitters (or probably more accurately knitter/authors) have into the human condition. If you are a DH (or DS (Dear Spouse)), you should read this book.

[Penny · Rating 4 out of 5]

As with any anthology, some of these short essays resonate more than others. Each provides an interesting insight into the author, with the stash theme a jumping off point. An interesting, thought provoking read.