I collect knitting needles. Every time I visit a new town or village, I pop into their charity shops to see if they have any. I like the ones that look like they've got a story. They're pink or blue or grey, well-used, and you can't see the markings anymore because they've worn off from years of knitting.

Charity shops keep their knitting needles behind the counter. For safety, they say. They're stored away for nosey-knitting-needle-collectors who come in asking for obscure sizes. I usually pick out a few pairs to take home, but sometimes people pop in and buy the whole collection. You can never have enough knitting needles, we crazies say. The shopkeepers hum and ha, smile politely, and get out their collections.

Sometimes they keep them in large paint buckets. Sometimes they keep them in old bags. Sometimes they're wrapped up in plastic packets.

I keep mine in a vase.

This knitty thing has been noticed by my lovely friends and family members.

I've started receiving bundles of preloved knitting needles as gifts.

Each one is a treasure but...

I'm going to need a bigger vase.