
What a grand lot of comments we had on this post, didn't we? I've enjoyed reading them because they reveal so much about the way we think, and it's worth bringing out several of the points made - just because it is, and then we can comment some more!
First of all, the wool/yarn question. What do you call it? I grew up calling it wool, but then most of it was 'just' wool. When I took up the needles again after a long lapse - and that was the influence of the blogs - I saw it was being called yarn everywhere, and assuming that was the sensible generic term which would cover the multitude of other fibres now so readily available, I've used that word since - though it doesn't come naturally to me. But maybe I should stop being pedantic and just go back to 'wool'. Mary mentioned the wool in the first picture in the 'Knitting habits' post, it is Colinette Point Five Velvet Bilberry, and it is wool. (What's shown here is Jamieson's Shetland Spindrift - also wool!).
The comments revealed lots of internal tussles of the "I want it but I can't justify buying it" variety, but we can be creative with our reasoning if it helps move us closer to gratification. Avice made the point that we can always buy for others if not for ourselves, and Blackbird stressed the recyclability of yarn so that the ill-fitting, unflattering sweater might be unravelled and turned into something better. Then there's the inspirational quality, as Jane remarked, of having a large collection at hand, as Becky says, "it adds colour and impulse to knit to life", and the prettiness of so much wool/yarn means it earns its place in the home in terms of William Morris' dictum: "have nothing in your house that you do not know to be useful or believe to be beautiful".
Even the most self-disciplined of us are still drawn to the 'dream room' full of books and knitting (or other craft) supplies - the studio is a powerful mental image for many of us and a happy reality for some.
The blogs seem to be effective in breaking self-denying resolve - pictures here and there can be very seductive - but we find it easier to give in to the impulse if it's just one or two small skeins we are acquiring (though small amounts can be impractical, as Oxslip says), and Blackbird urges us to buy what we fall in love with rather than going the 'safe' route to the ever-practical purchase.
Ruth M. notes that some of us fall into the trap of 'saving' the best stuff for that elusive perfect project - and isn't that just like buying a beautiful notebook or journal and never ever using it because we can't think of anything 'good enough' to write in it! I know that feeling. And then there's starting but not finishing, as Anne D. admits she tends to do (anyone else have a case of startitis?), but it's not wrong just to enjoy the process and stick with the project for as long as it excites you (or so this book says).
Talking of finishing things, it's about time I finished this, and if you've read thus far you deserve a ball of wool as an endurance prize!