But wait, there's more! Blogtoberfest takes off!

Yesterday I eluded to the mystery that is The Basket. Today I proffer an explanation, albeit image-heavy.

My long-suffering hubby, Mr BB, patiently puts up with my hoarding. You see, the sewing room is the kitchen, dining room, and mainly our bedroom. This is what he wakes up to daily in our room:
My crap is everywhere...

The knitting is oozing out of its stash box (pitifully small, and I call myself a knitter?! Tosh!)


So then he comes downstairs, and wants to have breakfast, but has to fight through this (yes, there IS a ball of yarn next to the fruit bowl...):


I conceded that things were out of control, so agreed to at least try and keep all the fabric out of his way. Enter The Basket. Tardis extraordinare. It is rather large, larger than my coffee table, big enough to hold both kids and a blanket, or a shops-worth of fabric, craft books, patterns and trim. Home of The Stash. It originally came from Ma and Pa, and has been a toy box, a linen press, and has fulfilled other storage requirements, but now comes into its own. Wicker (my favourite), lidded, beautiful.


I have it packed in layers so I know where to find things. To share the stash this week with Mikes, I unpacked only The First Layer (spreading it over the entire surface of my bed, thus causing a raucus with Mr BB!!).








However, there is still so much to share! Look, we barely scratched the surface!


Stash all over the place to see - check out the blogroll of participants at Mikes.

j

When stashing gets beyond a joke... Blogtoberfest chronicles

Stash. Noun. Plural, stashes. A collection, a reserve, sometimes hidden or secret. The verb is to stash.

What is the collective noun for those who collect fabric? I am one of them, and proudly so. I sew, sometimes, badly and passionately, always with purpose-bought fabric, never from The Basket. I mean really, I have Absolutely No Intention of ever using some of my faves. I couldn't cut them if my life depended on it. If I could quilt, then yes, I could conceivably make a quilt of all of them, but they would not all go together, and the mish mash would look revolting.


The idea of having a sewing room, where everything is neatly catalogued makes me drool, it really does. However I just can't seem to do it. For me, part of the Joy of Stashing is forgetting what I have, only to rediscover it later. Maybe this is from childhood?

For my whole life my Mum has had a large plastic bag full of her fabric scraps from the 60s, 70s and 80s. (Sounds like a radio station! Best of the 60s, 70s and 80s!)

I loved looking through this as a kid, and earlier this year became custodian of some of its contents. The highlights of which now grace my collection.


I have a habit that knows no self-control. No matter how many times I tell myself I haven't got the money for it, the collection grows. I accumulate. They plead to come home and live with the others... I mean, how many 30cm strips does a not-very-good-sewer need?! For one who doesn't quilt, I have the wrong collection.


Yes, they are Too Expensive Liberty prints. I used my staff discount to justify my purchase... Yes, my casual job is in a fabric shop, even being surrounded by over 2000 bolts of fabric hasn't got it out of my system...

I can't go past fabric in the oppy, and have lots that I can't bear to part with. There's also the fabric stash that masquerades as vintage linen, but is actually not used as linen... I also buy fabric for others though when I see it (daisies for Nicola, pinks and vintage here, brownie and guide here). I love supporting local and hand made.


Tomorrow I will show you The Basket, and actually share a post that is long over-due about my hoarding...

Until then - check out other great stash-sharers here!

j