So, I had this whole post planned about this amazing package that came in the mail yesterday, and about how excited I am about it, and how excited I was to share my excitement with you. That's gonna have to wait, though, 'cause something else has come up, and what I need to share with you right now is a state of fear, perhaps even panic. (I feel like an SNL skit: "There was a light at the end of the tunnel, Seth, but it's broken.")
See, here's what happened. We have some very nice neighbors who live a block or so away and whose girls play with our girls. Yesterday, as I was picking Younger Daughter up from a quick swimming play date (have I mentioned that it is failing in all ways to cool off? Yup, still in the 80's and 90's around here; I'm coming to the conclusion that October is just not my month), the mom of the other girls mentioned that she'd been wanting to pick up knitting again. So, of course, I did what any of us would've done and told her unequivocally that I'd be happy to facilitate (I may even have jumped up and down a few times but I am sure that I did not squeal; I have some dignity, after all). We agreed to meet this afternoon for an hour of knitting while the girls played.
She and her daughters duly arrived at the appointed time and we sat down to knit. She'd brought her small stash of yarn and needles, and we fiddled with that for a while. She remembers how to knit and purl, and a basic cast-on, and wants to learn to knit lace and/or socks. I showed her briefly how to knit on dpns, and then headed inside to get some sock yarn from the stash (you know how it is -- half the reason to have a stash is to enable when necessary; pulling people over to the Dark Side of Fiber Love is a good reason to get out of bed in the morning). I grabbed a skein that I figured one of her daughters would like (kids' socks seemed like a better start than large grown-up sized ones), and my ball-winder and swift, and headed back outside. I opened the skein up, put it on the swift, went to untie the yarn holding the skein together, and that's what I saw it.
Little bitty weird gray granules on the yarn.
At a spot where the yarn was broken. Strands and strands of it.
I tried not to panic. I thought that maybe it was just schmutz. I hung on hard to the schmutz theory, because I figured that screaming and yelling and running in circles pulling my hair out would not impress the nice neighbor lady with my sanity and responsible nature, and after all, she does let her kids hang out here unsupervised.
But I knew what it had to be. As soon as she left, I was head-down in that bin of yarn, praying that I would find no more "schmutz". Please please please, Our Lady of Knitting, no more schmutz. Because we all know what that schmutz is, don't we?
I'm pretty sure that's what's going on there. I found two more skeins with moth eggs on them in that bin, and pitched one of them (it was a partial skein of Kidsilk Haze, which should tell you just how freaked out I am about this whole thing); the other one only had a little bitty bit. I went through all the other yarn that had been on that shelf and the shelf above it, and found nothing else, nor in my bumps of roving. I haven't faced my other bins yet, but they're further away, and I haven't seen anything flying, so I'm going to hope I caught this fast.
What did I do with the yarn in the bin, you ask?
Yup, that's my freezer (I'm really hoping to have the camera ready when Rick first opens the door; it's the only laugh I'm gonna get out of this thing, and I intend to milk the heck out of it). I've been busy ever since wandering around the house, distracted, watching for little flutters out of the corners of my eyes (and seriously, this is way too much for me right now, since I'm fighting the good fight against meal moths in my kitchen right now)(yup, I know: bay leaves and pheromone traps and sealed containers); I have a distant memory of Stephanie Pearl-McPhee battling moths and that it involved freezing the heck out of the little devils. That also works with meal moths (there's rice there in my freezer right along with my yarn), so I'm gonna leave it all there for several days, thaw it out, and then for good measure, freeze the little bastards again. Maybe I need to buy a giant case freezer and store all of my yarn and all of my grain in it forever and ever. Or would that be going overboard?
I don't think so.