This needs to not happen again.
So. I pulled out the stockpot. I dumped all my skeins of newly spun yarn into it. I took it downstairs. I sorted skeins. I tried to remember not to stick my hand in the (very) hot water. I started with the burgundy, which is the oldest, and the beautifully balanced burgundy-green-brown (it’s much nicer than that sounds, trust me), and (hopefully) set the twist. I put it on a towel. Then it was the weird fibers’ turn, the milk and the soy. They needed vinegar. Oh, my, did they need vinegar. I should’ve taken a picture of the water the green skein cooked in. It was lovely. Ok. There’s a little cashmere, and some merino. Oh, hey, there’s that lavender tussah silk merino blend. Whoops, the tiny skein from an unidentified sheep. Huh. A tiny skein of red I don’t even remember plying. Is that it? No, there’s another skein of merino tencel stuff. Enough, already.
… needless to say, I spent quite a lot of the evening cooking yarn. And it is a very good thing that we’ve got a pink bathtub. Think about it for a second.
(And, despite my joking about cooking the really terrifying spaghetti, none of my housemates have tried to eat any of it. Even after I tell them that one of the yarns is a tofu-byproduct. Interpret that how you will.)
Also, I have a very good drying rack, but I might need to invest in a larger model…

The singles on my wheel are feeling sad and neglected. Having only one functional bobbin is a little bit of a problem. But they’re lovely proto-yarn, in my always humble opinion.

