My PIC called me one night with a very serious question.
PIC: What kind of yarn do you think you'd want?
PIC: My sister is in Argentina, and she said she found a yarn district! Like three full city blocks, just of yarn, and all of it is about one or two dollars a ball. But she has no idea what to get. What should we get?
My PIC's sister is not a knitter, but she knows how much her sister loves the yarn. Sweet, right?
So together my PIC and I strategized about how to explain to a non-knitter how much yarn is required to make a particular item. We were not very good at this. At all. Particularly because the measurements that were needed were in grams, and we don't know a damn thing about grams. We're lame. We also can barely do this ourselves when we're looking at the yarn in the yarn store. Really.
So we did the best we could to explain chunky vs. worsted weight and grams vs. yards in an e-mail to my PIC's sister, and we sucked at it. Hard. But we thought it was really kind, and figured we'd get a few balls of yarn for cheap, and that would be awesome.
Meanwhile, my PIC's sister did what any (crazy) person would do in this situation, you know - a situation where the information is kind of vague but the heart is in the right place: She bought a metric f*ckton of yarn.
I was made aware of this a few nights later via a dark, blurry photo sent to my phone. It was of my PIC lying on a bed that appeared to be covered in what looked to be yarn. My PIC told me it was a lot of yarn. I thought that was very generous of her sister, and I sent my warm thanks.
But you know what? The warmth of my thanks was not commensurate with the amount of yarn we are talking about here.
When I went over to my PIC's to see the yarn, I didn't take my camera. I didn't think it was necessary. Error.
My PIC's sister had managed to cram two tall -- I mean tall -- and full -- so, so full -- bags of yarn into her already stuffed luggage. How she did this, I'll never know.
Because I could not wait any longer to show you just how much yarn we're dealing with here, I created this super-ridiculous drawing for you. These bags really are up to our waists. And they are full of yarn. Hanks and hanks and hanks of beautiful yarn!
(Note: The person in this drawing has no head and grey shoes to keep my PIC's identity private. While she does have a head, she would never wear grey shoes. Also, if I'd drawn her head, it would've looked just like her - because I am that good - and we can't be having that.)
Once Joann's ships our ball winder and swift -- very necessary in this situation-- I cannot vouch for our productivity in the rest of our lives. It's gonna be all ball winding all the time. Our houses will be overflowing with yarn cakes. And then you'll see. You will all see.
Hilarity will surely ensue.