Random With Purpose

I knit a lot of socks. Since sock yarn typically comes with enough yarn to knit socks for feet bigger than mine, I have leftovers.

Lots of leftovers.

I've done several projects in an effort to try to decrease the alarming amount of leftover soft yarn I have.

I've made clock cozies:

I've made Frankenscrap Jays:

I've made Franken-Knucks:

While great projects, they have done little to decrease the amount of yarn I have. Then I found the Mini Mania Scarf. It's a linen-stitch scarf made entirely of scrap yarn. It's knit lengthwise, which meant each 500 stitch row took around 20 minutes to knit. Surely that would put a dent in the yarn stash.

The scarf is glorious. However, I realized when I was only a few hours into the project that the scarf made me feel uncomfortable.

Sort of itchy and twitchy.

Its gloriousness stems from its randomness and yet I can't handle the randomness. I realized this may be the reason I've knit two clock cozies as gifts and not knit one for myself, despite my deep and profound love for them.  The socks and knucks were also given away.

All these projects are really, really lovely and yet I don't like them.

I felt like a freak for about four seconds. Then I realized that it's okay to be someone who doesn't like randomness. I like a plan. I like a plan even better if it can be color-coded. When I planned the garden for this year--a pretty simple endeavor, really--, I used four different markers and a letter code. As a kid, one of my favorite pasttimes was dumping out my 64 box of crayons and putting them back sorted by color.

This love of order is an excellent trait in nearly all areas of my life. If it means I have to give some of my knitting away--to people who really love the randomness of scrap yarn projects, might I add--then that's fine.

It is a pretty scarf...

...for someone else.