The yarn I'm currently knitting with is very unusual, I love it. A hand dyed mercanized cotton, a little thicker than lace weight, but a wonderful heft to it. They only sell it in Milford and when what's left is gone, that's it no more. So every time I'm in the area I buy two or three skeins as it's expensive to boot, I have no doubt I'm known as The Woman That Buys That Yarn No One Else Wants. It's not the easiest to knit with and skeining it is a nightmare - they won't wind it for you at the yarn shop. It knots and tangles, stops and starts. I have a 1/3 of a skein currently thrown up on top of the entertainment system, hopelessly tangled. I should throw it out, but I pick it, work it a little and throw it back up there. I should throw it out, I probably don't need it and the amount of time it will take to wind it will take forever. But every time I go to throw it out - there's Bakem. When I was a teenager I made a practice of buying my yarn out of the discount bin - they sold this great yarn but it was ends of lots, some of it in messy loops, too much on a skein or too little. I'd bought a bag of black yarn - simply wonderful and hopelessly tangled. I was over visiting Liz with this and after what I considered endless fighting with the yarn, was going to throw it out. I can't remember how Liz's grandmother ended up with the yarn - I think she was over too and said she'd take the yarn if I was going to toss it. The next time I saw the yarn there were two facts. It was all neatly wound into ball and it was no longer mine - rule was if you didn't work for it, you didn't get it. That stuck with me - obviously - it odd how things people will say or do will impact your behavior or view point on not just tangled yarn, but what's worth working towards. So the yarn sits on top on my entertainment system - I don't know if I'll finish struggling through it, but I'll keep the yarn, just in case.