The Yarn Hamlet

I will post more later, but I’m exhausted. It’s been a long few days. I just wanted to blog for posterity something that started innocently enough on FB, but due to sheer geekiness and not a little bastardisation of The Bard, became a little bit of what the exceptionally brilliant GidgetKnits and I have deemed The Yarn Hamlet. (See what we did there? It gets worse, I’m sorry.)

It began with my surveying the glorious (and admittedly humble) stash I managed to snaffle up at Mish Yarns on Saturday. All I wanted was a yes or no answer. Instead this happened. A tag-team destruction of one of Shakespeare’s great soliloquies:

To yarn cake my recent stash additions… or not to yarn cake my recent stash additions… that is the conundrum. Or whether ’tis nobler in the mind to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous yarn… or to take arms against a sea of skeins, and by succumbing… knit them.
To knit: to purl; Thrice more; and binding off to say we end the heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks that the FO is heir to. Tis a consummation devoutly to be wish’d!
To nupp, to entralac; to rib – perchance to cable: ay, there’s the graph; for in those detailed instructions, what complex lace may come when we have severely blocked our poor shawl, must give us pause…

It may yet be finished. But this is what happens with literary geeks start yarning about. Admittedly, my co-conspirator was doing remarkably well, seeing as, at the time of writing, her chooks were attempting to re-enact Chicken Run. Still, she’s been out of order for a while, and it’s great to have her back.

I’ll have one of my (now heavily modified) Temperance socks off the needles and the next one started this week, and my very sharp (hooray) knit picks needles turned up last week, so I can resume some ninja-knitting without the need to resort to violence. I may have also gone slightly overboard with the laceweight shopping on Saturday. And the sock yarn. And… Oh well, never mind. The damage could have been significantly worse. The problem is, I find myself dreaming of Wondoflex and their sale room. This is not good. Maybe I need another trip up north to visit my stash…

But more on that (and the boots, I promise, I’ll tell about the boots) next time.
Any particular soliloquy you’d rhapsodize to yarn?



  1. Alas, poor Yarncake. I knew it, Artificially Mythic. A tangle of infinite twist, of most excellent fibre, I have borne him on my needles a thousand times, and now, abhorred in my imagination it is!…

    1. Here hung those stitches that I have tinked I know
      not how oft. Where be your yarn overs now? your
      k2togs? your increases? your seamless construction,
      that allowed us to avoid seaming with delight? Not one
      now, to frog your too-tight tension?

  2. Now get you to my lady’s chamber, and tempt her, let
    her knit an inch thick, to this favour she must
    come; make her laugh at that.

    (Okay, I really didn’t need to tink that too much… Shakespeare *was* obviously thinking of knitting!)

  3. Sometimes I do worry…but then I have a good laugh as I look at Hamlet in a new light. Unfortunately I know naught about yarn so I cannot add to your witty interpretation…

  4. snort. oh oh can we do act 1 scene 2, the too too solid flesh. it would have to be about acrylic or novelty yarns, esp with the melting and all…

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