There was more fleece picking today. I felt like Laura Ingalls Wilder with an iPod and SPF 45. Between the VM* and the BM**, sheep are dirty little devils. I also attempted washing some of the picked locks. After researching various methods, I decided to try cleaning the wool by laying it into the colander part of a salad spinner. (In case you're ever over for dinner, this is a spinner just for fiber-y pursuits, so no worries about wool in the watercress.) I filled the bowl with very hot tap water (ours is turned up pretty high) and dish soap, and then gently lowered the colander of locks into the water. After just a few minutes, it was remarkable just how much lanolin and other muck dissolved. (The first dunking also produced an odor that is not how you want your kitchen to smell--ever.) I would then lift out the colander, dump the water into a bucket (lanolin + other ick + my home's 100-year-old plumbing = a potential plumber visit, so the back yard is now fragranced with eau de Bridget), and repeat until the water rinsed clear and the wool smelled more like wet yarn and less like wet barnyard. The locks are currently drying on a sweater rack in the bathroom downstairs. I can't wait to see what they look like when they're dry.
Tomorrow morning, I'll be cleaning up a city park in celebration of Earth Day and our President. (Why is it that I will do that, but I can't stand dusting my own living room?) Hopefully I'll also have both a few hours of good sun and the energy to continue working on the fleece in the afternoon.
In other matters, as if Ravelry wasn't enough, I have fallen victim to the timesuck that is Faceb00k. My downfall comes as a result of an impending high school reunion, and a significant one at that. (That doesn't mean that I'm actually going.) One thing led to another, and all of a sudden, hours are flying by looking at who has friended whom. Halfpint never had these kind of distractions. (OMG. I just G00gled "Laura Ingalls Wilder half pint" out of curiosity and discovered that she Tw1tters. Srsly. WTF.)
**Yes, that BM. No, I'm not going to spell it out.