Generations of Yarn Enthusiasts
Crocheting has been passed down from the women in my family for generations. I learned to crochet when I was a little girl along with my older sister. She kindly used her superpower of patience to untangle my knotted skeins of cheap big box yarn.
I quickly discovered that my favorite part of crocheting was not actually the crocheting itself. I cherished the pride & love that goes into the finished product I made with my own two hands for someone special.
And picking out the yarn itself? That was icing on the cake. My grandmother had an entire wall in her home - floor to ceiling, corner-to-corner, filled with yarn. In elementary school, during recess I would spend my time crocheting instead of playing tag, and my close friends would receive hand-made scarves for Christmas.
The first time I ever went into a little independent shop was in college. It was unforgettable! Rows on rows of different types of yarns; wool, silk, cotton, cashmere. Teeny tiny threads I had never seen before caught my eye more than the over-sized bulky yarns ever did.
The first time I saw hand-dyed yarn was at a small county fair in Minnesota. The way the colors flowed and combined together like watercolor was mesmerizing. Words failed me and I couldn't think of a single question for the maker. At the time, it never occurred to me that this trade was something I could learn.
It wasn't until a dreary mid-pandemic day in 2020 while scrolling online that I discovered a small business owner sharing her methods used to dye yarn at home. Instantly, I was hooked. The rest, as they say, is history.
Creating my own hand-dyed yarn is the calling I didn't know existed.
