The mohair that ate New York (or just shed on it a lot)

A few months ago, I was innocently wandering through Romni, looking for yarn to make the soul-eating Lelah. Suddenly, a skein of Fleece Artist Country Mohair jumped at me, a menacing look in its imaginary eyes. “BUY ME,” it said, “OR ELSE.” Or else what? Silly yarn, you can’t hurt me. But I had to admit that it was beautiful. The colours! The sheen! The adorable fuzzy halo! The strange but intriguing heaviness! The fact that it was made out of goats! I like goats. They’re neat. So I bought it.

Eventually I came to the sad realization that there is very little one can do with 200 metres of heavy worsted 100% mohair. I glared at it, and it retaliated by shedding on me. And on the Calmer I bought for the soul-eating Lelah. And on me again. And then, it shed some more.

I tried to turn it into a Cloud Bolero. “HA HA HA,” said the mohair. “NICE TRY. I DON’T THINK SO. FROG ME NOW.” Then it shed on me just a little bit more.

I’ll get you, mohair.

Right now I’m trying to turn it into a very, very, very modified Buttony Sweater. Obviously 200 metres won’t make a sweater, so it’s going to be a short-sleeved minisweater. With ribbed sleeves. (Why? I don’t know. It seemed like a good idea at the time.) That sheds a lot.

Here it is yesterday, a charming pile of constantly-shedding mohair barf:

Today I split off the sleeves, and so it is a vaguely sweater-top-shaped pile of mohair barf. I am cautiously optimistic; so far it isn’t sending out “FROG ME NOW” signals. I am covered in mohair, though. Because it sheds. Did I mention the shedding?

19 May 2007  ·   Tags: Mohair Minisweater, My Knitting Hates Me