Dearly beloved readers, you are invited today to mourn the loss of my beloved skein.
How does a lovely skein like this get reduced to…
Well, it all started when Delaware weather started snowing.
And snowing. (Sigh)
As is my custom when I finish a spin, I take my skein with me on my outings until I finish another and replace it (don’t judge me). Apparently, this one fell into the snow and remained there for days. Meanwhile, I couldn’t find my skein in the house. I thought maybe I had left it at the school when I showed the Art Club my results of plying my singles from my spindle. Where was it?
Outside, nature was running its course. Eventually, snow that doesn’t get washed away usually becomes ice if it’s cold enough. And there was my skein. In the ice. The morning we were finally allowed back to school, I was scraping snow and ice off the car windows when beside me I could see a blue and purple-looking, wet, frozen skein of yarn. Gasp!! Outside, shivering in the cold?!! It had frozen right into the ice!
Car windows were forgotten as I worked feverishly to rescue her from that nasty, dirty ice that was holding her captive. Once I extracted the little gem, I rushed her to school and, very carefully, in nearly frozen water, I let her soak until thawed and clean. Then, I gently blotted her and let her hang to dry. She looked beautiful! Even better than before getting lost. 🙂
But then…I started noticing straggly ends sticking out of her. Sniffle. After I found the eighth end, I realized with dread that she was a hurt skein. I felt her pain too. She was a spindle spin, so she spent more time with me-and it hurts just a little more than maybe if I had spun her on one of my wheels. Poor baby.
I figured I’d give her some final words to honor her for the bit of pleasure she gave me while she was here…Sniffle.
In Fond Remembrance of The Hurt Skein
Jan 2014-Feb 2014
She was soft, blue and long. Always faithful, accompanying her owner even in difficult weather. She gave her all and now she is gone. She really was one of a kind.
Loved by Weekend Knitter
Well, here is the momma with her wounded babies. She even looks like she’s mourning, huh? Let’s see if the little sister she’s carrying won’t survive this winter.