What I did on my winter break AKA the yarn ball of doom

For the New Year, I'm not going to make resolutions or announce goals or anything this year, but rather provide a story about one of those things that can only happen to me, because they seem to be quite popular among my readers. Just think of me as comic relief. :)

I was fortunate enough to have enough time allowed away from the University to spend a substantial amount of my winter break home with my family. My dad had some surgery right before the holidays and he was in recovery mode during my visit (comical right from the start, no?...he's fine btw, and I don't really want to go in more details about it on the blog, but I will happily report that he'll be good as new soon) What the surgery meant for me was that instead of the usual exhaustive running around that accompanies the holiday's I was given a free pass to stay in and help out Dad and Mom in a low key holiday/recovery scenario. I honestly can't remember the last time I spent this much time in the family homestead and while it was imposed under less than ideal circumstances, it was just what my soul needed to recover from what has been one of the toughest years I can remember. (6 interviews, the ill fated field project, more time away from home than at it, a 1500 mile move, the tumultuous first month's of tenure track, the culture shock of a less than friendly university, dad's surgery and whatever else I'm blocking out from the trauma of it all, phew, I'm happy to be moving on)

Mom and I spent some quality time with the fiber arts too. I brought with me a bunch of little projects in various states of completion to finish up. Those socks I talked about last time and that are still waiting for their photoshoot, and this scarf:I was happily crocheting away on it and providing some moral support to Mom while she finished up a sweater that she has been knitting for a very long time. I learned to knit from both my Mom and my maternal grandmother at various stages in my youth. My grandmother was a prolific knitter and she churned out sweater after sweater in all styles, shapes and colors for all the time I knew her. My mother is quite a good knitter in her own right, but she never knit quite as much. Her craft of choice being more centered around the sewing machine, with which, she has skills I could never hope to master.

Anyways, she started this sweater awhile ago, thought she might not have enough yarn and put it aside, until my visit when I forced her to pick it up and finish it.

While snuggling up with some tea, a blanket and my crocheting. My mother revealled yet another unknown talent she had hidden in her arsenal. A technique for hand winding the most perfect center pull ball of yarn you have ever seen. Seriously it's a thing of beauty, almost better than my ball winder could do. See:
Sorry about the blur, I don't really know what was going on there.

While being distracted by this wonderful technique, I spilt a little tea. Just a little on the blanket and my scarf. Now, you should know, I'm a big tea drinker and a big clutz. I spill tea on something at least once a week. Usually myself on my way out the door, or in the car on my way to work. This weekly occurance is quickly remedied with a quick swipe of the hand or paper towel. The occasional residual stain is easily eliminated with a Tide pen or regular laundering. I quickly did my paper towel swipe on the scarf and the blanket and it was clearly not enough. The blanket was in the washing machine less than 5 minutes after the offending tea had touched it. The (unfinished) scarf was soaking in the sink with some mild detergent immeadiately after that. You know where this is going don't you.



Yup. Tea stains. Bad ones, the likes of which I have never seen. To make the cleaning process easier, I finished the scarf, I was only a few rows away anyways, and a few days later we went to work. First we consulted the internet. Lemon Juice. We soaked, we rinsed, we washed. No go. Then we called my sister, who consulted the bible of all things domestic. Vinegar. We soaked, we rinsed, we washed. No go. We drank some wine. Mom went into the depths of her library. Enzyme cleaner like Biz. No go. Not in the pre treatment paste like regime or the long term soaking one. We went to the big guns with the Shout pre treatment stick. No go. By the end of the night the kitchen looked like this:

And I still have a stained scarf. Damn my mother and her amazing yarn magic tricks! Oh well, you win some you loose some. I hear peroxide might work, but I haven't gotten up the gumption to give it a go yet.