Little Lost Lamb

Day 40: I'm feeling a bit like Little Bo Peep after finding a long lost sheep in the bottom of the cedar chest. I was looking for a particular skein of yarn. It had to be in there somewhere, but by the time I'd hit bottom, I hadn't found it (it was in a different stash). As I was putting things back in, sweaters here, spun wool there, wool fabrics laid out flat, I came across a gallon Ziploc containing raw wool, black, very soft. Digging into it, I found a handwritten label: "Paskha." I couldn't believe my eyes.

Paskha was the first lamb born into the flock I maintained until I moved away from our Toadstool Acres family homestead. Looking back at photos, I found a date: 1988. Would forty-year old wool still be spinnable? Or would it have become brittle and too fragile? Several things were working in my favour. First, I'd picked the fleece before putting it away, nothing but prime locks in the bag. Second, I'd stored it "in the grease," i.e., without washing the lanolin out of it. I tested the fiber integrity with some heavy-handed carding. It was still in good condition. The bagful weighed out at two ounces, all I had left after the rest of Paskha's first shearing lamb's-wool had gone to make a sweater for a friend. I'm going to have to find a special purpose for the finished yarn, maybe in a Fair Isle yoke, little lost lamb returned to the fold.