The blasted elves still haven't shown up here. Not a single sign of them, but with my wool as my witness, progress was made here yesterday, and the humans in my immediate vicinity (the ones who count on me to knit and spin in order not to have to live with a vengeful lunatic who can't relax) are grateful for it. I did enough carding yesterday to have myself twelve pretty little rolags of angora/cvm (actually, that's technically wrong, it's more CVM than angora) and I made time last night to spin it up.
I washed the soft and pretty yarn last night and hung it up to dry, and this morning I put it out in the backyard to finish drying in the sunshine while Jen and I went for our training ride.
Arriving home, it was dry and pretty, but not nearly as fuzzy as I was hoping the angora would make it. I want it to look like a little cloud, like a fog settled on the yarn, with a beautiful halo standing out from it.
It's not there yet. It's a lovely yarn, and so soft you would mistake it for the soft brand new cheek of a baby, but it's not the cloud I imagined - not just yet. Still, it's a lovely, lovely thing, and sometimes yarns with angora "bloom" after you knit and wash them, especially if you're a little rough with the washing, so I decided to give into the urge and make them into a pair of Cutest Bootees.
Aren't they sweet? Aren't they going to be soft and lovely, and perfect for... oh, wait, something the size of a horse. THEY'RE HUGE. That pattern is written for fingering weight, and this yarn is a little thicker than that, and that makes these big enough for a walking baby, and walking plus angora bootees = DEATHTRAP. Anybody walking in these would be skating in no time, and so they are no more. I've ripped them back, started with bigger needles (they were a little dense, like me) and way fewer stitches.
Tomorrow, there will be smaller sweetness. Two steps forward, one back.