Moving On Up

I'm in the midst of moving up from an apartment to a small townhouse on the east side of town (sort of like the Jeffersons* only this place is not a deluxe apartment in the sky but a quaint little townhome). Despite the somewhat dodgy comparison to an old 70s sitcom, what is it about moving that tends to shed light on one's little secrets?

Before the move, I could've sworn -- no, actually amitted out loud -- that I had 5 bins of yarn. Big bins, but still only five. I thought I knew since I called myself sorting it all out just before packing it all off to the new house. But wouldn't ya know, as I removed the top layers of boxes and bins cluttering my living room and bedroom, I found small bags and another bin of yarn! Sadly, my first response was not "where did this box come from?" or even "where am I going to put it?" but rather, "where had this yarn been hiding?" and "oooh, now I can make that thing I wanted to make." Yes, I have no shame.

I still will not admit to being a yarnaholic. I have a few fellow fiber artists who shall remain nameless, who share their homes with their yarn. Actually, for one of them, it seems the yarn shares its home with her.

So, I have to rethink, just a bit, how I will store my yarn in the new place. Give me time. I'm sure I will find more. I haven't really uncovered everything in the closets or under my bed.

* For those of you who remember the Jeffersons:

We're a movin' on up,
(We're a movin on up.)
To the east side.
(Mo-vin on up.)
To a de-luxe apartment,
In the sky-.
Mo-vin' on up
(Mo-vin on up.)
To the east side,
(Mo-vin on up.)
We finally got a piece of the pie.

Fish don't fry in the kitchen,
A beans don't burn on the grill.
Took a whole lot of trying
Just to get up that hill.
Now we're up in the big leagues,
Gettin our turn at bat.
As long as we live
It's you and me baby.
There ain't nothing wrong with that.

We're a moving on up
(Mo-vin on up.)
To the east side,
(Mo-vin on up.)
To a de-luxe apartment
In the sky-.
Mo-vin on up
(Mo-vin on up.)
To the east side.
(Mo-vin on up.)
We finally got a piece of the pie-.