Today I would have been at the Maryland Sheep and Wool Festival if I weren't locked in the house. To make myself feel better I am going to spend the day doing woolly things but first I am gong to put away my winter wear.
I started the process yesterday. Look at my poor socks. They look better now after a warm bath and a good stretch but you should have seen them when I pulled them out of my Croc boots. They kept my feet warm and dry all winter when I was hauling wood but I neglected them terribly. I never washed them once. Gasp.
The bottoms are almost completely felted. I always pulled these thick socks over my regular wool socks so I wouldn't shift around in my boots. They protected me but it looks like I didn't do a very good job of protecting them.
After picking out all of the sawdust I was tempted to toss them but it was just too sad. I rolled the poor things up and tucked them back into the sock drawer. I'll make a decision as to their fate at a later date.
There is a lot of history with these particular socks. Dad and I dyed the wool in front of his garage on a blistering hot August day.
He helped me card it. He would pick out the locks for me and crank the handle.
It was a pretty ball of yarn. One of many I got out of a giant 12 pound bag of Corriedale fleece I picked up in 2011 at the MDSW.
I knit the socks on my way up and back on a trip to Rhinebeck.
Awwww.....their Ravelry mug shot. They were pretty things-so soft and warm. I loved the colors.
Oh, well. I do love them but it's not like I don't have more made out of that same fleece.
It was the bag of wool that kept on giving. This is the second year in a row I won't have a fleece to play with. I wonder if shepherds are shipping?