#plonter

Some years back, I bought a book for my children entitled "My Grandmother's Stories" by Adele Geras.  One of the stories was entitled "The Plonter."  Nearly every fiber artist, whether a tailor, knitter, crocheter, embroiderer, or otherwise, tends to have one.  According to the story of the same name, by definition, "A 'plonter' is a mess of tangled wools, all bundled up together in a basket."

In this delightful story, Hannah and Reuben object to their son's choice of Rachel as his future wife.  They have known Rachel all their lives, and, in this instance, familiarity has bred, if not contempt, simply indifference.  Naturally, no one is ever going to be good enough for their son.  While they are bickering, Rachel calmly sits on the sofa quietly sorting through the plonter.  When Reuben and Hannah finally take notice of her, she has transformed a tangled mess into a neatly organized work-basket.  The proverbial scales fall off their eyes, and they sensibly realize not only what a jewel Rachel is in her own right but that she will be the perfect addition to their family.

Lately I have been clearing a lot of "stuff" out of my life.  However, one item(s) I have resisted so far is my "untangled plonter."  (Is that an oxymoron or what?)  Why?  I have discovered sometimes there is just the right amount of a color lurking within its depths.  Would you believe that I have just enough baby blue yarn left over from a layette project for toddler mittens or perhaps another pair of booties?  One particular strand of lime green yarn?  Perhaps it might make a flower stem in duplicate stitch?  The last few feet of grey lace-weight yarn?  I can use it as "waste yarn" to start a new lace shawl!  Currently, I am even using some leftover brown "waste yarn" to hold thumb stitches while I finish the rest of a blue mitten!