The Dragon Wins Again

Every year I tack on an addendum to my list of New Year's resolutions. "Try not to accumulate more stuff." It should really be at the top of the list but it always takes second, third, tenth place to other worthy self made promises. Notice the wording.  "Try." Only a woos would chose this term. More forceful terms are necessary, such as: "Do Not Accumulate More Stuff." or better yet: "Accumulate more stuff on pain of death." And I don't mean just yarn. Or fiber. If our entire collection of coffee mugs is clean it doesn't fit in the narrow cupboard reserved for java jugs. And that's a narrow space for a reason. Give me room and I'll fill it.

So last Monday, armed with the addendum resolution which is teetering on top of a tall stack of other well-intentioned goals, I toddled off to Huntsville, Al for a monthly Cost Co buying frenzy. Know that the small University town where I live lies miles from urban civilization. It takes an hour in every direction to break out of the prison of Walmart and Mackos. The closest Cost Co is in Huntsville, 49 miles on winding rural Tennessee and Alabama backroads. The nearest Starbucks is in Manchester, a 20 minute drive in the opposite direction towards Nashville on the Interstate. I rarely go there, as in "how rarely do you buy salt" rarely. So when I found myself wandering into a Starbucks in Huntsville to fortify my brain cells for the Cost Co adventure, the sleeping dragon in charge of amassing and safeguarding my stash suddenly awakened. As anyone who has ever read the Hobbit knows, dragons are serious about their stuff and being born in the Chinese year of the Dragon, I'm doomed to allied with the great lizard. Add the fact that I have five planets in Taurus, including the Sun and Venus, ruling planet of the MOST acquisitive zodiac sign and you can see that the deck is massively stacked against this puny addendum resolution, which trembles precariously towards a precipitous fall like Yertle the Turtle balancing on a stack of 100 of his closest friends. 

But I'm stubborn and I say to myself, "NO MORE MUGS." Ha! I gather myself into my psychic girdle. I feel invincible. I stride to the counter to order my latte. But wait! What's that on the shelf? A tasteful grouping of white mugs. Pah! White mugs have to be more than good to catch my eye. But, no. This mug is embossed with cables and ribs. 

@#!^. 

How often do all the stash monsters conspire to provide the complete compendium of stash worthy items in a single object? The stack of resolutions crumples like an outmoded Las Vegas hotel upon detonation. The clerk looked at me strangely. How could he know that the reason I looked so blown away wasn't from a serious need for caffiene, but because I had just lost a battle with a dragon and that there was a horrible mess to clean up in my inner landscape?

BTW, notice that the knitting on this lovely mug is worked from the top down. I wonder if the mug designer noticed.