I have no explanation. Perhaps, things like this don’t need explanations. All I know is that I get an extreme amount of joy from a new ball of crunchy, cotton dishcloth yarn.
It makes no sense. It is the strangest thing to spark a little joy, and yet it does.
There’s also nothing quite like getting the stripes to match on a pair of socks, or when you’re able to join two balls of wool by felting two plies together (commonly known as the spit splicing method, but the spit idea grosses me out, so I just use hot water). When you’re able to get the centre pull of a ball of yarn started without the almost inevitable ‘yarn barf,’ you can’t help but feel like some kind of knitting magician, or the magic that MUST be involved when you are casting on using the long tail method, and you’ve chosen the length of your tail just right.
It’s the little things, really…