From Kit Tyler dropping her ball of yarn under the settle in Wethersfield, MA to the knitted espionage of intrepid housewives in WWII, stories (both true and fictional) are what first drew me to knitting. Many of my favorites are from people and eras long past; but the story of Peace Fleece DK is one of our time. Founded in 1985, this “Warm Wool from a Cold War”, as it is labeled, was conceived out of a desire to promote reconciliation between historic enemies. The original Peace Fleece was a blend of Russian wool (the first Soviet wool ever to legally enter the United States) and American. Fiber from other countries (listed here at PeaceFleece.com) was eventually introduced. Peace Fleece in its current form is spun from merino and rambouillet, raised by Cheyenne and Navajo ranchers, respectively, and Texas mohair.
The yarn comes in hank form; mine was neatly skeined and I had no trouble winding it with a ball winder. The initial ‘hand’ is bouncy and somewhat rough. It has fairly significant tooth and does not caress the fingers like 100% merino, but I found that my hands adjusted to this fairly quickly. (As a side note, the texture of the yarn clings readily even to metal needles, which made for an extremely pleasant knitting experience. I used Knit Picks Nickel-Plated needles.) It contains lots of tweedy bits which take the dye very differently, or not at all. I also was quite tickled to find several bits of dry grass, hay, and other plant matter caught in the yarn! I left most of them in, as they were not large or prickly enough to be an annoyance.
The fabric was already quite supple before washing, but a bit coarse. The cables were passable but uneven, while the ribbing was rather weepy. But wait—there’s more!
I soaked the hat in warm water with Kookaburra Delicate wool wash for about 20 minutes, and blocked it on a balloon. As soon as I took it out of the water, I saw that the fabric had changed—dramatically and yet not. It seemed much more cohesive; the surface was much more relaxed.
See how everything evened out? Instead of being like hundreds of scattered Lego blocks, the individual stitches have become like a solid Lego wall. The fabric bloomed and softened incredibly; I would love to see how it would drape in a larger garment. Something with plenty of positive ease would be perfect, such as Glymur by Jennifer Weissman. While it’s difficult to see in the photos, the mohair halo has become just slightly more pronounced than before, giving a soft, hazy overtone that is still rugged and gives good stitch definition.
As you can probably tell from the pictures, the color I used (Kamchatka Seamoss) is gorgeously and fiendishly difficult to photgraph; in diffused lighting it shows more blue undertones, while in brighter light it appears more green.
This was one of my first experiences working with a woolen-spun yarn, and I do think that I’ve been converted! Now if I can just find an excuse to make something bigger…
The hat shown in this post is my Ealhswith Hat. The yarn featured in this review was provided to me by Harrisville Designs, but I was not compensated for this review and all opinions expressed are my own.
