Most everything but the Dale of Norway made it. (Heather, thank you for the advice on felting it. I ran right out, grabbed it out of the trash, and threw it in the washing machine. Long story short, it's apparently superwash and didn't felt. But after that it was well and truly trashed, and I felt no guilt or sorrow at pitching it. So thanks for the help. It was a really good idea.)
Innsvenget and the circular cardi both made it. (One or the other is top of the list for the Next Finished Project. I'm thinking cardi.)
I'm remaining casual because Innsvenget is knit of mothproofed yarn and frankly, if bugs haven't eaten it down to nothing yet, they never will (and of four sweaters and umpteen balls of that yarn in the closet, every last damn thing was untouched). The cardi is cotton, and therefore not on the Little Bastards' food list. The alpaca project, surprisingly, also made it. I think in that case it's because it was in a plastic bag. Literally. Not a zip-loc or a grocery bag, but a plastic bag meant for taking to the beach. Since it seemed to be working, I put it all back in the bag and hung it on a wall hook for some added safety.
Most of the roving bit the dust. All that survived was stuff sealed in plastic, namely shop stock (which is also in a plastic, sealed storage container) and the two rovings you see here. They were what I most loved, and so were in plastic, though not religiously sealed, though they are now. Obviously.
The white one is the soft-as-a-baby's-butt merino roving that Bells sent me from Australia, hand to hand from her, to her brother-in-law, to my in-laws, to me. The brown one is llama that was sent to me as a gift by Historic Stitcher. The carbon fiber (the grey hank there in the front, and bags and bags more sitting on the shelf) is of course untouched. I'm leaving it open on purpose in the hopes the Little Bastards will go for it. From all I know of carbon fiber, it will kill them slowly and nastily. Eat, Little Bastards. I dare you.
Other than the Dale, all the sweaters, jumpers, cardis, capes, and ruana-thingies made it.
Most of them are knit with Brown Sheep Nature Spun Sport, as is Innsvenget, and permanently moth/bug/Little Bastard proofed. I cannot say enough good things about this yarn. I think because the sweaters were in a hanging shelf sort of thing, and not touching the floor or anything else but the hanging bar at the top, the bugs just couldn't get to them. At this point, these shelves are stuffed with all of the lavender sachets taken from among the yarn, PLUS there is a ceramic lavender diffuser hanging next to it.
You throw open the door to The Pit right now, and the menthol makes your eyes water.
Now, the only things on the floor are cotton, and leftover bits of wool from previous projects, some as old as ten years (which is when I started knitting clothing). Occasionally I get a wild hair and knit something feltable, felt it, and throw it away, from these raw materials.
I've bagged them up even though I don't really give a rip about them.
There are, near as I can tell, only two up sides to this whole thing. One, this is less stuff I have to move in July. And two?
The Pit is much less a pit now.
And now, the husbeast has popped a spring in his Lazyboy recliner and I have to go demonstrate my upholstering abilities. We may end up with a C clamp permanently affixed to the spring network. Or hose clamps, it's turning out.
At least the Goob is entertained.