something happens at night. really.

Here is my latest rug, a scrappy punch-hooked rug. This thing took me so long to finish I had nearly given up hope of ever getting it done.  It's now on the floor in my bathroom, and I am just so pleased with myself.  (Note the self-satisfied look on my face--oh that's right, I forgot to photograph that bit)

But in making this rug I was reminded of the truth about a certain esoteric life principle:  When you are attempting to get rid of something and trying hard to use it all up, a mysterious process occurs at night while you are sleeping; whatever it is, it MULTIPLIES while you sleep or when your back is turned.

Case in point:  the yarn for this rug.  I was trying to use up ALL my leftover rug yarn.  I was certain this project would do it.  Punch hooking takes a lot of yarn. 

A lot. 

So I was confident.

About halfway through the rug I began to suspect the scraps of yarn were multiplying when I turned my back.  And by the time I finished, I looked in the bag and was convinced.  I cannot believe how much of this yarn I have left.  It's as if I never made the rug.  WTF?

This is a universal rule and applies to many things in life we are trying our best to use up:

• Pens and pencils
• Books, when you are determined to downsize and/or stop buying them
• Any type of cleaner of cosmetic you wish to finish and not buy again
  

...you get the idea.

But anyway--the rug is now where it should be and I love it.  However, I apparently can make yet another rug, or several, with this same yarn. 

Of course, should I suddenly be inspired to use this specific yarn for a tantalizing and exciting new purpose, I know that I would go to the yarn bag tomorrow and find nothing but a few short pieces. 

It would all have simply disappeared overnight.