The last couple of days, I have been spending my evening hours heating water on the stove, filling my buckets in the kitchen sink and washing wool. I don't have a laundry sink any more and my washing machine is front loading. Although this is a labor intensive system, it generally gets the job done. Until I hit the stinking Lincoln.
One of the bags of wool from my Shepherd's Harvest Fiber Contest (Recap here: spinners purchase a trash bag full of 10 different kinds of fiber - wash, spin and create an item to bring the 2006 Harvest made out of at least 8 out of 10 kinds of fiber for a chance at a $100 prize) was Lincoln and it stinks. Vegetable matter in the fleece was really what comes after eating vegetables. My husband raised sheep as a teenager and he and his brother had the motto, "We like fleeces without feces."
Well, so do I.
I washed and washed and washed and finally just figured that carding or combing would have to get the rest out. I get the feeling that I'll be dyeing this yarn some dark color. I picked the fleece over before washing but it's just been a wreck.
This is my comeuppance for not washing it earlier. Mea Culpa.
In the backgound, knitting the blue sweater. More knitting the blue sweater. Outside of that project, I may be crazy but I am also contemplating joining the Yarn Harlot's Knitting Olympics. I have some shawls that I have both the patterns and yarn for so my project will probably be something portable. I will be traveling to England during the Olympics so I have been wondering about what I can bring on the plane.
Oh, and the stinking Lincoln brings me back to my childhood. In the little town where I grew up, there were two elementary schools. One was Lincoln Elementary. So, those of us at the other school sang this oh-so-creative song about our competition - "Stinkin Lincoln, what are you drinkin'? Looks like water, tastes like wine - yuck, it's year old turpentine."
Like what 9-year-old knows what turpentine is, anyway?
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