I feel as if I have written this post many times before. Maybe I have, but I can’t find it in the archives. Or maybe this is just something that weighs oh-so-heavy on my mind so that it is ever-present.
I come from a family of pat rats. Okay, let’s call it what we might: hoarders-in-the-making. I won’t even discuss my relatives issues with this because–well, they’re their issues. But mine, mine I am ready to reveal, and I am doing this in the aid of Resolution #2 for 2012:
This will be the year that I conquer my hoarder urge. I am not merely vowing to toss stuff. I am actually promising to dig into the dynamic behind it, because that is the only way I’ll actually conquer it.
Let’s start small, with my knitting stuff. I don’t know what else to call it because it’s more than merely supplies, and it’s more than any one person requires to enjoy a hobby. In fact, let’s just talk about my knitting needles, and even that is overwhelming to contemplate.
Knitting needles come in a range of sizes, from 2 up to 15. I have all of them. Knitting needles also come in a range of materials, from bamboo to plastic to metal. I have all of them too. Finally, knitting needles come as either straight pins or circulars. The straight pins come in, generally, two lengths, and I have most options in both lengths. The circulars come in sizes as well, the cord connecting them being of varying lengths, and of course, I have a good selection of cord lengths as well.
If you are a knitter, then you understand perfectly; if you’re not–trust me, I REALLY NEEDED each and every one of these needles when I bought them. Or thought I did/would/might do.
Speaking of buying knitting needles: they are not cheap. The least expensive that I have went for about $7 each; the most expensive, upwards of $15-20. I don’t even want to think about how much I have invested in knitting needles.
And that’s what makes it difficult to get rid of them. How do I get rid of them?
Option #1: Toss the lot
All that money down the drain? Horrors! And what an incredible waste of perfectly good, in some cases brand new, knitting needles.
Option #2: Sell them
Just the thought of the rigamarole one has to go through to list something on eBay or Craig’s List exhausts me. The taking of the photos and the writing of the copy, both of which bring about their own anxiety concerning the relative quality of same. Will they show my needles in all their glory– Wait! Am I going to sell them all at once? Do I just plunk down these hundreds of needles in a tangled mess and hope someone will even see their glory? Or am I, as a real eBayer would, going to sell them in lots according to the material they’re made of? More pictures. More descriptions. More anxiety.
Option #3: Give them away
To whom? I don’t want to donate them to a cause, worthy or not, that will just sell them, because I could do that myself. I want to give them away to a worthy person or group, people who need them and who will cherish them, for whom my knitting needles will make a significant different in their lives. But how do I find said people?
These three options are warring in my mind until I finally take Option #4: I stuff them away in the back of a closet until I feel better able–stronger of will, that is–to review Options #1, 2, and 3 and actually choose one of them to follow through.
But–just after I finished writing this, I read an article that says one excellent way boomers can improve their mental acuity is by knitting. So maybe Option #4 will morph into Option #5, which is keep them, use them and get smarter!
Photo credit: knitsburgh.wordpress.com
Jane Gassner
