A couple weeks ago, I was dutifully scooping up clothes off the floor and throwing everything in the wash. A 50 minute 30c cycle later, I hauled everything out and started hanging it out on the clothes line outside, when I came across something balled up in the middle of the laundry bolus that puzzled me greatly.
Oh. I somehow managed to not notice my Damask lace shawl had been wrapped around the shirt I had been wearing the day before, and in my overzealous laundry-doing it ended up in there with the unwashed masses.
This had become a wardrobe favorite. While I normally don't like really lacy frilly things, this shawl was manageable, and I would draped it around my neck a couple times and it was so soft and warm and elegant, and the YARN! Sundara silk merino, with a beautiful peachy blush. It was my favorite and I wore it quite a bit.
It was a bit of work, but I loved every second of it. It also brings back memories of living in Paris- I sat in the Tulleries in the late afternoon sun and plugged away at this, and blocked it on my futon before donning it until it got too cold to have holey-lace around your neck.
And now, it's about a 18" across and a solid, unbendable mass. But look, you can still see the perfect nupps! It's like a archaeological dig to find ruins and then piecing it together and theorizing what it looked like back in its glory days now.
Rather interestingly, because the silk didn't felt, it kind of looks like boucle yarn.
I'm a bit sad about it, but somewhat amused. In all my years as a knitter, this is the first such accident to take place. I know from rumors and secondhand information that many of the gifts I had sent on have ended up in this state, but I've never self-sabotaged. This is an epic fail.
Lesson learned. I was going to give it to a friend with cats for bedding, but someone else at the pub chimed in and grabbed it. Novelty fabric perhaps?
Well, I loved it enough to want to make another one, perhaps in blue.