Male gypsy moth photographed by Didier Descouens 
Oak leaves damaged by gypsy moth
For the past two years, the Lymantria dispar dispar (Gypsy moths) have ravaged our oak trees, leaving behind leaves that look like ragged lace, and reducing the acorn production to zero. For me it’s not a terrible inconvenience — they are a pain to rake up (although they do make a good alternative to salt for making our walkway safe in the snow). For our wildlife population (particularly squirrels) however, these moths have caused one of their most important food sources to disappear. While this might be a natural form of population control, the squirrels that visit my deck all winter long are a source of entertainment that I would sorely miss if they too disappeared.
Last winter we put out corn, peanuts, and even acorns “imported” from California. Even so, we are now down to only 2 nests, and I think only 4 or 5 surviving animals. Two are quite small, so are likely to have been born this spring. I hope we can keep them fed as winter comes. This little guy is chewing the husk away to reach a walnut shell. It is likely to end up in a cache nearby where it will be dug up later. Scientists have discovered that in order to remember where they bury their nuts, the size of the squirrel brain actually increases in the fall as they gather and store their bounty.
My knitting/spinning friend Kathy (along with her husband and brother-in-law) kindly scooped up 3 huge bags of walnuts that had fallen to the ground to help with the squirrel feeding this year. I’ll also be out scouting for acorns over the next few weekends.
Meanwhile, Bruce’s sweater has been temporarily set aside to give me time to work on a project with a deadline — a pullover v-neck tunic with short-ish sleeves to wear over a jersey. Sweaters with long sleeves just make me too hot. It needs to be finished by early December, and I probably would have been smarter to design it to be a little shorter. However, it should go relatively quickly in stockinette stitch with a seed stitch hem.
This is coming from stash yarn that sadly is no longer available. It is Telluride from Classic Elite, which is a blend of alpaca, linen and Donegal.
I’m also doing a bit of spinning on my Electric Eel Nano with fleece from Dillner Hillside Farm. This colorway called Autumn Oak is 15% alpaca, 30% mohair (from their own goats) and 55% cormo wool.
It would appear I’m in a “red phase,” as you can see that I’m also anticipating a couple new pairs of socks. Bruce is due for his annual pair (in the blue and brown), and the red just spoke to me.
Last but not least, I’m working very hard on my travel/knitting/spinning book about Sweden. Josephin found this wool for me in August at the Österbybruk Wool Market sponsored for the 6th year by the Upplands Museum of Uppsala.
This yarn comes from Framgården in Lakene (central Sweden not far from the border of Norway). In addition to producing yarn from their own Värmland sheep (spun at Båvens Spinnhus), they offer courses in dyeing and felting. I’m looking forward to working with this yarn as it has a very different feel than the Gotland I’m using for Bruce’s sweater as well as the Jämtland I used to knit Lisa’s headband. As much as I’ve read about yarns, I’m finding it difficult to come up with descriptions that sum up the differences between all of these sheep breeds.
So what should this yarn become? I’m open to suggestions.
Sara: Is that grey as hairy as it looks in the photo? If so it probably won’t be suitable for a sweater. And I can’t tell what wgt it is, but I am thinking knit/felted slipper socks.
Btw, I inherited a skein of bulky RED handspun from the spinner’s estate that Franklin is dealing with, and will be extracting compatible colors from my SABLE.
I love your red sweater, perfect for layering (and unlayering as needs be). Cheers, Shelagh.
Hi Shelagh. It’s pretty hairy, and I only have the one skein so it will certainly not be a sweater. It’s fingering weight, so might be mittens. I have some of Josefin’s handspun I could team it up with to do stranded work. Usually yarn tells me what it wants to be, but this one is unusually silent.