Bysmerian

let me share a memory with y’all. it’s from i guess 1978 or thereabouts. it’s high summer. i don’t remember where my mom was driving me, in our avocado green chevette, i just know there was a traffic jam that turned 35w northbound into a parking lot from horizon to horizon.

picture it – wait, you don’t have to use your imagination, this happened all the damn time back then.

every one of those damn cars was burning leaded gasoline. there were no emissions regulations. there were no safety regulations. there were just thousands and thousands of detroit steel shoeboxes belching visible smoke as they idled, engines loud and hot, here and there a radiator giving up in the heat, a cloud of burning oil rising.

i, a smeet of five or six, was choking on toxic smog.

i reckon it was about a half hour into the traffic jam that i first threw up. i remember a blinding headache, i remember being confused, i remember dry heaving with my arms and head hanging out the window, the green metal of the car burning my hands and my chin. i don’t remember passing out, but i’m told i lost consciousness before mom was able to get to an off-ramp, because there were no emergency lanes on the highways back then.

i lived. and life went on. what were we going to do, complain? if i’d died, the cause of death probably would’ve been recorded as heatstroke, not carbon monoxide poisoning.

i know i’m probably preaching to the choir here on tumblr. but i really wish i could tell that story to the people who think deregulation is no big deal. i wish they’d put themselves in my mom’s shoes.

or even just look at some old pictures, then look out the window.

ever notice how cityscapes used to have that orange tint and hazy aura? yeah, that’s poison gas.

remember how the mississippi river used to be a stinking soup of baby-shit yellow sludge covered with disturbingly stiff rafts of light orange foam?

i can’t even find pictures of the sludge and foam, i guess they didn’t end up on the internet. the smell was indescribable. that oily shimmer. the reek of dead things. people didn’t boat on the river for pleasure; it smelled too bad, it was too ugly, and you could get super super sick if you touched the water.

and now look at it.

i still wouldn’t want to drink it, but if i fell in i wouldn’t bolt for the shower in a panic, you know?

if the thieving billionaires get their way, we can kiss those sailboats goodbye, and learn the smell of toxic foam once more. the ultra-rich won’t even feel the extra money, they’ve already got more than they could ever touch, they just stash it in offshore accounts to rot, but the rest of us will return to a time of neverending nausea and weird cancers. a time when every elementary school class had at least one kind who’d been born with no fingers or their heart outside their body, and this was just… the way things were.

When I was learning my trade, when my classmates and I were having a chuckle over the “well duh” level of specificity written into the Code of Federal Regulations (try “no hazardous material shall be stored in crew berthing” on for size), I will never forget the silence that followed when our instructor spoke these words:

“Your regulations are written in blood.”

These regulations were not written on a whim. They were written because someone thought they could cut costs by storing however many more pounds of a radioactive, toxic, carcinogenic, or whatever else material in the same rooms where the human beings they paid to transport those materials slept, and then did that, because no one was telling them not to. 

They were written because people died. Horrifically. Because unregulated capitalism values profit over human life and suffering. 

Can I say it again, for those not paying attention? 

you are in the medieval era and you have this role!

Carpet wool, as the name implies, is a term for the wool from sheep specifically, intentionally bred for centuries to produce wool that is ideal for carpets (historically meaning rugs or, less often, heavy outer blankets, not just carpet like the modern stretched kind stapled to the floor.)

The ideal fiber for an item that is going to be put on the floor and walked on needs to be durable and easy to clean, therefore each strand needs to be long, relatively thick (yes, that means coarse,) and not prone to easily felting.

What it DOESN'T need to be is particularly "soft." The long fibers will make a smooth enough surface to not irritate the soles of your feet and you're not generally going to be wearing a rug right against very sensitive skin all day where you can feel the prickly ends. "Carpet wool" breeds, also known as longwool breeds, have wool fibers that perfectly meet those criteria.

A rug made from wool from a hair sheep or some meat sheep that is coarse but also brittle and short is going to wear out and fall apart ao quickly it's not worth the effort to make it. Therefore, despite being coarse and "scratchy," it is NOT CARPET WOOL. Use that for stuffing pillows or compost it for fertilizer.

A fine, soft, Merino rug is also going to be a felted, pilled, worn-out mess in such a short time it's not going to be worth the effort to make. Save that for a beautiful lace scarf that's going to be directly against the skin of your neck all day. Judging by what's best for rugs, Merino is actually the "garbage" wool.

Anyway, humans spent millenia developing different fibers for different applications, and also words mean things and don't mean other things. Can we please stop calling Lincoln or Wensleydale wool "garbage" because it makes scratchy socks and can we also stop calling Katahdin or Dorper hair "carpet wool" please.

Also, the sheep that grow the wool are absolutely rocking the look.

A fiberist who causally dismisses any breed for its inherent genetic qualities is an indication of inexperience. A novice doesn't have enough data to make an acurate judgment on anything other than their preference. Which, we all have preferences, but being enthusiastically loud about our preferences doesn't make us right.

In a culture fixated on the seductive qualities of soft, our western idiom has been coddled into the false equation of soft=best leading to the unsustainable environment nightmare of microfibers. The first fail in that soft equation comes from comparing hand spun yarns with commercial yarns. The loud opinions tend to get ramped up here, especially when an novice hasn't reconciled the equation:

[Great Yarn = (characteristics of breed or breed blend + preparation method) ÷ spinning technique (± ply)] all influenced by fabrication method of the final project.

Now that☝️equation gets shit done!

Because even though wool is a multifaceted fiber -

It isn't a one-size-fits-all fiber. it's a spectrum of fiber solutions to a variety of situations & needs, producing both textile & non-textile uses

Yes - carpets & rugs are one of those needful situations that specific wools fulfill. However, the same breeds used reliably for industry also have functions in garments & home decor not associated with feet. And, to the experienced fiberist: you don't dismiss wool for not being softy-soft

✨️Fiber✨️ Bruja✨️

As part of a rare breed study, I had the opportunity to spin an Old-World UK Herdwick.

The fleece was the same color of the stones in its native range. It was coarse, full of hair, & kemp. It was tough. The twisted single cut a groove my flyer's wood. The staple was 3-4" (7.5-10 cm) & it held twist perfectly even when spun super-fine.

Plied back upon itself it made a stable 2-ply lace weight.

Despite it being from one of the cutest sheep to grace the hard-knock fells - it was a beast of a fleece.

Our Guild chairperson called the rolags “Godzilla’s pubes” - and he wasn't wrong. It was akin to a natural steel wool pad.

Together, our Guild tried every preparation we knew.

We de-haired, hand carded, drum carded, hackled, & combed. Spun on wheels & hand spindles making singles, & multiple plies. The yarn was crocheted, knitted woven, needle felted, needle punched, & even used in nalbinding. It was deemed filler wool - not even worthy of rug making but the fleece was far to clean to compost.

And - alas - with the same fiber someone spun their sample as cobweb weight and made a square shawl/lap cover - maybe 40" by 40" (a meter square ). Because of the fibre characteristics it held its structure in an open lace that was beautiful. The charcoal gray was stunning - it caught the light here and there where the lighter shades of kemp and hair reflected. It was a most beautiful piece of work

And it is not soft. But it is very lightweight & warm.

And that combination is hard to find in commercial yarns.

The variety of textures in the fiber category of Wools is astounding. There just might be a wool for every need:

Cormo for baby layettes.

Alpaca for the cowl around your neck.

Merino for the colorwork sweater pattern from Ravelry

Shetland for mittens and hats.

Wensleydale socks that will wear well in boots and keep your feet warm.

Lincoln Long wool that - if spun as lace weight or cobweb will make an heirloom lace baby blanket -

Or Herdwick . . . to make a lap warmer for someone whose circulation can't stand the weight of more than a sheet but still needs to stay warm.

All of these could be carpet wool - the last three being far superior & more durable to the task than the others - but they can also be much more.

No you can't all choose darkness. Or shadows. Because either you're joining the bad guys or you're going full chuuni with that option. Pick again.

Crystal? Good stuff, can't fault a classic.

Water? Girl, ok but let's work on that self esteem. Where's your main character energy? Water is sidekick stuff.

Can you- sorry? Did you ask for your element to be *guns?* Are you Rob Liefeld? I don't care what Homura did, you're supposed to be healing hearts and fighting darkness, not capping asses. Back in line.

BDS- wait what?! You can't do that on this show. I don't care what kinds of magical girls you're gushing over! And no whips!

Yeesh. Ok then. Who's next? You want... the endless void? Goddess dammit, no chuuni stuff! You're getting stars.

Who else? You want fire? Just regular fire, not all-consuming hellfire, not flames of lust? Finally! Take two.