Spinning wheels

Spinning to learn. Spinning for fun.

My wheel with Corriedale yarn on the bobbin

Several months ago, I signed up for a two-day spinning workshop in Southern New Jersey. It sounded like a lovely way to decompress from a family wedding planned for the prior weekend. It was.

Although I've been spinning for years (and years and years), I am not a great spinner. I can spin. I like to spin, but it's not my sole focus. I tend to spin a little a lot of days and my resulting yarn is  "so-so." OK. Not great. So I'm always interested in improving my skills.

Third Star planned two workshops--weaving with Karen Donde and spinning with Beth Smith. I did Karen's workshop last fall--the exact one--so signed up for spinning. I knew of Beth Smith and had recently used her scouring method to process a fleece. (Heads up: She is on the roster at the MidAtlantic Fiber Association's 2017 conference next summer.)

Beth Smith wearing one of her many crowns

What a fun learning weekend! I did more with the fleece from a greater number of different sheep breeds than I ever have. We prepped--hand carded, combed, teased and flicked. We spun from roving, combed tops, locks, and milled roving in short forward draw, supported long draw and unsupported long draw. I learned....a  lot.

Happy 40th Anniversary!

The Guild was celebrating their fortieth anniversary with the workshops, but they also included public outreach in the mix. On Saturday evening, they held a celebration dinner, made a marbleized silk scarf and mounted an exhibit of guild members' creations. I loved their show and took a couple of photos (below).

Third Star Fibre Artists Guild Show and Sale: ( L) Various guild members. (R) Annette Devitt's work.

Saturday in Brooklyn

Celebrating five years of friends and fiber

River Valley Farm's paper sheep took shelter from the rain

This was the fifth year for the Kings County Fiber Festival. Held in Park Slope in  Brooklyn, N.Y. on the Saturday of Columbus Day weekend the festival is now a part of family history. Son Steven connected Maxine de Gouttes, organizer of the event and then owner of Stitch Therapy knitting shop in Brooklyn, with his sister Kris of Winter's Past Farm who became part of the first group to participate in the festival.

Each year, more people attend the festival and there are more group activities at the historic Old Stone House in the park. The park is also the site of a children's playground so the area buzzes with activity.

Spin City spinners and weavers
practice for competition

It's here that the Spin City Shawl Team does a practice run for Rhinebeck's Sheep to Shawl competitions. Unfortunately, I'll miss not only the competition, but the group in full costume when they go head-to-head with other sheep-to-shawl teams from the region. (Few things interfere with fiber festivals, but this one takes precedence over everything else. My son is getting married.)

Knitting with hands

Also at the Old Stone House was a large group learning to knit without needles. Lion Brand Yarn donated the yarn--and bags to hold the creations. People of all ages took advantage of the opportunity and some made some pretty large shawls!

Winter's Past Farm booth ready for business

Most of the day was just about perfect for being outdoors. It was cloudy but comfortable until about 3 p.m., when it started to drizzle. Not enough to bail but enough that we needed to make the booth into a three-sided plastic cocoon. By the time it was raining steadily, it was time to pack up. 

It was all great fun!

Lemons to lemonade

What to do with troublesome wool?

 Love the natural colors on my new dryer balls.

In my blog last week, I shared my encounter with wool unsuitable for spinning and a real pain in the neck to card. The answer: Dryer balls. 

I have three and love them! They work just fine, but I've been wanting a couple more--especially when one goes temporarily missing in a pocket or sleeve.

People at fiber shows often ask how to use them. Simple. Throw them in the dryer and leave them there where they keep the clothes from clumping together and the dryer dries more efficiently.

Dryer ball recipe

If you already have the wool, you only need the foot and leg portion of pantyhose or knee-highs. The wool can be in just about any form so long as it will felt. Yarn blends are unlikely to felt well, nor do yarns treated to be machine washable.

Knotted nylon full of wool fiber 

Also beware of dyed and colored wool or yarn as they may bleed out on clothing in the dryer later.
Stuff the wool into the foot of one of the nylons. I made a ball with my hands, inserted it and then just added wool until the nylon was as full as possible. If using yarn, wrap it tightly in a ball.

Pull the nylon tightly around the ball and make a knot at the top, as in the photo at right. I had enough to make another ball, so I repeated the stuffing and tying process in the same nylon. 
Then I threw the knotted nylon with the two wooly balls into the washer with a load of towels and the wash water set to hot. I wanted the wool to felt--and felt a lot. The balls followed the towels into the dryer. 

There is no recipe. If the ball doesn't felt enough on the first load, repeat the washer and dryer runs until it feels fairly solid. Not hard. Just firm.

After I'd finished the two dryer balls at the top right, I found some wool that I'd overlooked and added it to a ball that was on the small side. The wool didn't adhere tightly to the felted ball, so I wrapped it with some test yarn that I'd spun and discarded and sent it back through the washer and dryer in my next towel load. It is perfect!

Note: At least three dryer balls are needed for them to work effectively. Five is even better.

Spinning to dye for

After building up a sizable basket of handspun, it was time to dye. 

Most of my dyeing experience has been with natural dyes and I do love them--from the collecting through recycling nature's color-laden gifts to the lovely, soft colors. 

I've done my share of roadside collecting, but two things have spurred me to consider dye alternatives. One, most free and readily available dyestuffs--marigolds, walnut hulls, onion skins, etc.-- result in colors that dominate the yellow end of the color chart. And two, it may be fun, but it takes time. Precious time. 

As I'm focused primarily on wool fibers, I've puttered a bit with acid dyes but it's effect on the environment has been an ongoing concern. We live in a beautiful but fragile ecosystem--the Pinelands of New Jersey. We also have a septic system. 

Seeking a greener alternative

Dyed skeins drying

At the Maryland Sheep and Wool Festival last month, I came across Greener Shades dyes offered by Still River Mill in Eastford, Conn. As advertised, "Greener Shades is a non-hazardous, non-chrome, low impact, heavy metal-free acid dye for use on silk, wool, nylon, or any animal fiber. 

Formulated without the use of hazardous metals, these dyes provides superior light and wash fastness without relying on metal compounds to achieve bright and beautiful colors."

It seemed worth a try so I bought a starter kit. Then I proceeded to gather the tools and equipment needed to dye. My old stainless steel dyepot was long gone (It had been appropriated to make beer!). It's been replaced thanks to New Jersey Guild of Spinners and Weavers member Pat, who alerted guild members to cheap pots at a local discount store. pH paper was harder to come by--at least locally. After trips to four pharmacies and one medical supply store, I ordered it online, along with an inexpensive thermometer and citric acid. Oh, I also bought a burner.

Directions to use the Greener Shades dyes are simple, but I still needed to get into the rhythm of doing it. Perhaps most surprising to me was to discover that our well water is pH neutral! These dyes require an acidic pH of 4.5. Citric acid does the trick.

I dyed several batches over the weekend with depth of shade ratios ranging from 0.5% to 1% and played a little. That lovely soft mauve came from throwing a skein into the pot before all the amethyst dye had been discharged. It's the skein on the right in the photo and I like the effect.

Thanks also to the kind soul at the recent New Jersey Guild meeting who offered the yarn drying rack for a donation to the guild. It's perfect and I promise to share details about it (Click here for details.)

Fiber to fabric

Natural and dyed felted eye candy

Interlocked threads transform to beautiful fabric

With a pile of roving in hand, why not needle felt it to make fabric? After our test drive on the felting machine, it was time for some production felting.

As we would be renting the felting machine at an hourly rate, the plan was to prepare as much as possible at home and take them ready to feed into the machine. Using Coopworth roving, we cross-hatched roving to form what I'm calling pseudo-batts. 

Layered roving prepped and ready to feed

We had 11 of these batts in total and transported them without a hitch. Most of them were large and naturally colored pieces. Three used colored roving. 

Getting the batts onto the bed of the felter sometimes required more than four hands, but, like the prep, it took doing it to figure out the best way to do it. Overall, they turned out exceedingly well and we're pleased with the results. 

Or, I should say, Kris is pleased. They're from her flock and  will be for sale at the upcoming Maryland Sheep & Wool Festival. She'll be at the American Coopworth Registry booth, a shepherds' co-op, in the auction tent area.

Blue-green felt comes off the machine

But just because they're not mine doesn't stop me from thinking about what might I do with these pieces of felted wool. I can see embellishment--embroidery, felting, etc.--on the colored pieces, or maybe a hat. and the one with stripes? A hat. 

As for the bigger pieces, I see vests and sweaters--maybe with knitted sleeves. Paint them to add color. Or not.

These are all blank slates ready for the creative fiber artist 

Wrapped in luxury

Wear a fur as if it is cloth, and cloth as if it were fur.

Paisley shawl, detail. ca. 1860.

It's an old saying that I have always loved as it speaks to how a woman wears a coat. She wears the coat. The coat does not wear her. 

I have no opposition to fur coats, but I've never wanted one. Perhaps if I lived in a very cold climate, I'd feel differently. But I don't.

This gives me far more latitude (If I had a fur coat, I'd feel obliged to wear it at every opportunity) and allows me the luxury of wearing my personal treasures more often. 

To me, there is little more satisfying than wearing a spectacularly beautiful textile. I appreciate hand crafted textiles, like the poncho from the women's co-op in Inga Pirca, Ecuador where they raise and shear the sheep, spin the wool, weave the fabric and make the garment. Also from Cuenca, Ecuador, I have an irate poncho. There is a beautiful embroidered jacket from Guatemala and a scarf from Japan dyed with cherry blossoms, to name but a few. They are my treasures.

Paisley shawl, ca. 1860.

A spectacular paisley shawl

One particular treasure is my antique paisley shawl. While living in London, I had deeply admired the antique paisley shawls in markets and developed a real love of them in their many forms. Small and large squares and rectangles. I loved them all. But I never bought one. They were very dear.

After returning to the States, we saw a particularly beautiful and pristine shawl at an antique fair. Secretly M. purchased the shawl and gave it to me for Christmas. He also crafted a lovely cedar box in which to store it.

My wool shawl is large--72 inches square--and woven of very fine wool. Sometimes I wonder whether it was purchased here in the U.S. or brought in a trunk. Where was it worn? and what could she tell me? These--and other  stories--are all unseen yet woven into the shawl.

I absolutely love my shawl and wear it whenever the occasion and the weather permits. And when I wear it, I feel special. And why shouldn't I? I'm wrapped in luxury. 

My new treasure

The box was big, but light--and not addressed to me. 

Mudag, Liz Balfour (Photo: Liz Balfour)

Even the postwoman remarked how light the large box was. And from the U.K.? M hadn't mentioned ordering anything, especially something from overseas. I suppose I should have been a little suspicious when M said, "You open it." But I wasn't. 

And all the better for a complete surprise! It was a mudag!

If you have been following this blog, you will have seen my photo of a mudag at the National Museum of Scotland (NMS). I loved the simple and practical woven willow basket made for storing wool for spinning at first sight.

I confess that I was so taken with the unusual basket that I considered trimming branches from a weeping willow tree that had been downed in July's storm. Some common sense prevailed because I didn't. That is certainly because I am not a basketmaker--and not because I wouldn't like to be. I must set some limits on my omnivorous approach to fiber arts. 

Knowing how much I had admired the basket and a little concerned that I might carry through on my 'thinking out loud' and carry my pruning shears down the road, he secretly started researching the baskets. 

For one, they're known as mudags. According to Woven Communities of Scotland, they are also known as muirlags, mulags, crealaghs or craidhleag. The one in the NMS, which was  labeled only as a wool basket, was collected on the Isle of Skye in the Inner Hebrides where it was known as a crealagh. What is known about the baskets is described in more detail here. 

M also found Liz Balfour, a basketmaker in East Lothian, Scotland. One of the founders of the Scottish Basketmakers Circle, she says, "The Museum basket was the one I copied originally many years ago but I have seen quite a few since then. They are rare and only a few survive in museums." 

God's Eye on each end of the
mudag (Photo: Liz Balfour)

Besides the fact that mudags were woven for utility rather than for beauty or artistic expression, there is speculation that few have survived intact because the basket was often kept near the fire to keep the wool warm and easier to work. Some surviving baskets are burnt on one side.

M commissioned Ms. Balfour to make a mudag for me as an anniversary gift. (It soon will be 48 years.) 

A handcrafted treasure

Resources indicate that most modern mudags are based on the photograph and dimensions of the mudag collected by Dr. Evelyn Baxter on the Isle of Skye and recorded by Dorothy Wright's in her book, "The Complete Book of Baskets and Basketry." Mine is about the same size she records: 19.5" long, 12" diameter with an opening of 6.5" x 5.5," but differs slightly with its God's Eye on each end. There are no feet so, ostensibly, it can roll. But it doesn't. It just sits beautifully by my feet.

Spinning from my mudag

In retrospect, I'm glad I didn't try this on my own. For one, the willow used in the baskets isn't from the tree, but from a shrubbier species. One U.S. basketmaker grows 60 varieties of the genus Salix, but none look like the tree. Makes perfect sense. For another, mudags are  difficult to make even for experienced basketmakers. One unidentified basketmaker recounts her experience recreating one for the Highland Folk Museum. 

I am delighted to have such a beautifully crafted mudag--and grateful to have a husband who so thoughtfully supports--indeed, feeds!--my love of unique and beautiful handcrafts. My mudag is full of wool roving--so I depart somewhat from the traditional storage of fleece or rolags. Rewarding as carding wool and making rolags may be, it's time consuming. And since my list of 'want-to-do's' is long, I need to take some shortcuts.

Sheep business

So many choices at Valley Shepherd Creamery!

Bring on the cheese, yogurt and ice cream!

By now you know that I love wool and all its permutations, but there is more to sheep than fleece and lamb chops. A visit to Valley Shepherd Creamery in Long Valley, NJ had been on our bucket list for too long a time. 

It was a perfect day trip. Once off the expressways and spaghetti interchanges, the road took us through some of Somerset County's historic villages and beautiful countryside. 

Set on 120 acres, the Creamery offers tours of its operations. On summer weekends, they're on weekends. Unfortunately, we were there on a day when only the shorter 45 min. tour was available. It allowed us to see the cheesemaking room, the milking parlor and a view into one of the sheep sheds, but was restricted to the main shop building. The website does not provide details, so if you go, I'd recommend a phone call to the farm to find out when the full tour is scheduled as the cost is the same for both.

A day for a picnic

Picnic on the porch

As suggested on their website, we took a bottle of wine and picnic basics, planning to feast on bread and their cheese. We bought an excellent soppressata (not made locally) and Creamery cheeses that would not be on the tasting tray. We tried Oldwick Shepherd, a Basque-style sheep cheese, two goat cheeses--Very Goat and a chèvre cheese--and Crema de Blue, a Jersey cow milk cheese and American Cheese Society award winner. Then we finished our lunch with sheep's milk gelato. Yum.

Behind the cheese case

Valley Shepherd Creamery Milking Parlor

The Creamery has steadily grown since its beginning 15 years ago. It makes goat and cow cheeses, but sheep's milk cheeses are its legacy and at the heart of its artisanal cheese-making business. 

Sheep milk is richer than cow or goat milk and, according to Sheep101, yields more  cheese due to its higher in fat content, solids and protein. 

By their own description, the Creamery is a  small operation with a flock of 600 Dutch Friesian Milk Sheep. Ewes are bred in the fall and lamb in the spring. Milking operations begin at that time and last until November, when the ewes stop producing milk. 

The milking parlor, which is described as the only one of its kind in the U.S., was designed by the Creamery's owners, who were trained as engineers. It looks like a high-tech merry-go-round. And it pretty much operates like one.

The ewes enter the apparatus single file. Once in a station, the ewe is stabilized and attached to the milking machine. Pacified with a small amount of grain in the feed bin, they circle on the milking parlor and exit about two minutes later via a second chute.

Cheesemaking central

Compared to cows, which produce between 55 to 100 pounds of milk a day for at least a  year, sheep don't produce a lot of milk. A Creamery sheep averages three to four pounds a day for about six months after lambing. 

When the sheep don't give milk, the Creamery doesn't make sheep cheese. But it also has cows and goats that provide milk to support ongoing cheesemaking.

Friesian sheep are noted for their dairy production. Not for wool production. Ewe fleeces average 9 to 12 pounds, reports raisingsheep.net, but the average fiber diameter is 29-33 microns, and a USDA wool grade 46's-54's. The farm shears its sheep and, according to its website, has blankets made from the wool. The shop had a few pelts for sale and a few yards of alpaca from their flock.

Farm to market

The Creamery's distribution channel is direct. It sells wholesale to restaurants and has steadily expanded its direct-to-consumer markets in the New York and Philadelphia regions. It has cheese shops in both cities and sells its products at more than 24 local farmers' markets in the region. A relatively recent addition to the Creamery brand is MeltKraft, a grilled cheese sandwich bar.

Now I'm ready for a trip to Reading Terminal Market for a grilled cheese sandwich. 

Speaking of spinning

Why spin yarn when you can buy it at the store? 

For much the same reason many people garden or sew or do any number of things that are readily available to buy, We do it for the joy of doing it. 

Spinning fiber is the same. Some of us learn to spin to better understand fiber and its properties and others because the pastime is peaceful and the spun yarn, rewarding. 

Kids are intrigued--and they love to try to make yarn, too. Spinning isn't a difficult skill to learn. Like all other crafts, doing it well takes practice. Lots of practice.

When the Navajo rug sparked my interest in learning to spin, it was the late 1960's and we lived in Ohio. No Internet to support research or speed my connection to resources. I was on my own.

Spinning wheel, c.mid-19th c.

My first wheel came from a barn. The Saxony wheel, circa 1850 or so, was a long-neglected and non-working family wheel that had been stored for years in the hay loft of the family's farm in Hilliard, Ohio. The owner had no interest in it and was happy to sell it.

The wheel needed a lot of restoration. M recalls that a prior owner had nailed a piece of wood to the edge of the wheel where it was damaged to keep the drive belt on and one of the maid uprights was missing. A major problem was the orifice, which was cracked and jagged where the original forge welding had failed. The distaff was also missing, but it was not important to me as I wasn't interested in spinning flax.

M, a very talented woodworker, restored the wheel. He found someone with a metal lathe to make a replacement for the broken orifice, turned a new maid upright, repaired the damaged wheel and replaced the leather bearings and the old, rusty and broken hooks on the flyer. It worked!

Next was wool. I was so green that I knew nothing about sheep breeds and certainly nothing about selecting an appropriate fleece for hand spinning. But that didn't slow me down. I made a trip to the nearby Ohio State Woolgrower's Association and went home with a fleece and a set of hand carders. (Looking back, I wonder where my brain was: If they were selling hand carders, might not they have known a hand spinner?)

I was seriously swamped in wool ignorance. Now I look back on the experience as an adventure in what not to do. First I opened my bag of fleece.....on the dining room table. That was not the smartest thing I've ever done. As you all know, I should have done this outside even if the fleece had been skirted. And it hadn't been. It was absolutely filthy. 

Ashford Traditional, c.1969

Armed with Elsa Davenport's book, "Your Handspinning," I had decided to spin in the grease, so after carding some wool, I got down to business. I sorta-kinda spun some yarn, but my best work seemed to be distributing bits of sheep dung on the wall behind the wheel. Really.

I learned to spin on that wheel--but not particularly well. And with small children, I eventually gave up on the fleece and sent it to an Amish carding mill, where it was made into batting for a quilt. 

I kept spinning and a couple years after acquiring the old wheel, my Christmas gift from M and my in-laws was an Ashford Traditional wheel. Accompanying it was a sheet with assembly instructions and a page entitled, "Home Spinning for Everyone." Scroll down to the bottom for a trip back to the 1960's. (Does the spinner's hairdo date it, or what?)

Recent twists on spinning

I spun over the years and even added a drum carder to my toolkit, but spinning, along with most of my fiber crafts, were relegated to lower priorities with increased responsibilities of a full-time job. 

When my daughter started her flock and was interested in learning to spin, the Ashford wheel moved to Winter's Past Farm. Kris is an excellent spinner and has been instrumental in my return to the wheel and in improving my spinning. So has M. As CWR (chief wheel researcher), he spends his time at the big sheep and wool shows researching equipment and encouraging me to replace the Tradition with an double drive Ashford Traveller. (It is a good wheel, but do not be misled by the name. It is not a good traveller.)

With a flock in the family, I found myself lusting after beautiful fleeces as they were shorn. Acquiring them was easy. Spinning it was another matter. My intentions were good, but my priorities weren't. When I (finally) retired in January, I had two fleeces--a Coopworth and a Tunis--and a rather large assortment of wool from other sheep breeds.

I made spinning a priority and I have vowed to spin all the wool by year-end. I set up a spinning 'station' in our main living space, which makes it easy to sit down and spin for 15 minutes or so. Then, shortly after the new year, M surprised me with an Ashford Joy--a wheel that spins and travels well. And it really is a joy! 

Ashford Joy Spinning Wheel

I'm not sure I can make my self-imposed deadline. We're at the year's midway point now, and I can't/don't want to devote entire days to spinning. (So much else to do!) But I'm working on the stash--and making progress. 

Thanks to spinning instructors, including Mabel Ross, Nelda Davis and Amy Tyler, and to practice, my spinning continues to improve and my fleece stash is shrinking. 

Coopworth yarn, singles and 2-ply 

Next challenge: Design something and  use the yarn.

Ashford brochure, c. 1970

Afternoon at the museum

Celtic brooch

Inspiration and awe

On our last full day in Scotland, we returned to Edinburgh and spent the afternoon at the National Museum of Scotland. With limited time, we restricted our visit to the Scottish History and Archaeology wing. With a museum guide, time from the Palaeolithic era to the present day was compressed to fewer than two hours. 

The museum is exceedingly well laid-out and the artifacts, well-displayed. We lingered after the guided tour that compressed the time from the Palaeolithic era to the present day into fewer than two hours. 

I especially treasure museum visits as they almost always provide sources of inspiration. It may be color, line, texture, design--I never know what it will be. But I know that it is almost always there. I just need to slow down and drink in what surrounds me. 

Old designs, modern form and function

Iron Age gold torc

There is a beautiful display of jewelry made by the Early People, so named because they left no written history and little is known about them. Among my favorites were the recently discovered Iron Age gold neck ornaments (torcs) (left) and the Celtic brooch pin (above right).

The torc is spectacular and its design, timeless. The museum obviously thinks so, too. The gift shop has beautiful replicas for sale. 

Woven willow wool basket

I also especially liked the woven willow wool basket, made on the Isle of Skye. Functional and beautiful. And perfect for storing wool to be spun. 

(I keep trying to maintain some focus, but just maybe I do need to try my hand at basketry, after all.)

Industrial archeology

Jacquard loom cards

We also spent a lot of time in the galleries of historic textile equipment. All the machines I have heard of were there--and more. Many are original, but some are scaled down models of the originals. It is quite an impressive collection.

There is a loom like the one at the Weaver's Cottage and there is a Jacquard loom, a mechanical loom that enabled weavers to produce complex patterns such as brocades and damask--and those for paisley shawls. The loom is controlled by a series of punched cards, which are laced together in a continuous sequence. Don't they remind you of early computer punch cards? 

A young Chinese-American couple was also visiting. He works in the textile import business and showed us a photo of the machine in his factory in China that produces textiles. It was nearly identical to the Jacquard loom in the display.

I was also drawn to the beetling engine, mostly because I'd never heard of such a thing. The huge machine was used to soften linen thread and also to add the 'glaze' finish on quality woven linens. Note the hooks for holding--and twisting--linen threads on the bottom left. I can only imagine the noise it would make pounding the material. 

Beetling engine

The museum is a must-see for anyone interested--even a little bit--in Scotland, its history and its people. 

Shearing day

Three bags full

View from the skirting table

Weather here in the northeast interfered with the normal run of late winter activities. Some events were cancelled, some went on without us, and some were rescheduled.

Shearing day was a reschedule. Usually the end of February or the beginning of March, the event at Winter's Past Farm's was delayed until the end of March. According to our shearer, most shepherds in this region have pushed the date by about a month this year. 

Sheep in queue

The fleece skirting table is our domain. There were three of us on this detail this year. We clean up the newly-sheared fleece, bag it, and keep moving. Our goal is to get rid of most of the worst. K. keeps her sheep covered, which results in a significantly cleaner fleece, but the neck area always has hay bits from the feeder and the tail--well, no need to explain the stuff at that end. It all needs to go.

This is just the first pass, but if we don't remove the bulk of of the hay and excrement, they will contaminate the entire fleece. It will be worthless. 

The coat comes off

The market

The market for small shepherds is spinners and other fiber artists. The circle is small. It's important to maintain credibility as a shepherd who produces clean fleece. 

The fleeces go to market in various states. Spinners and felters may buy a sheep's entire fleece, but the fleece is often spun into roving, which is clean and ready to spin. 

Fleece that doesn't meet the quality mark for spinners is still useful and makes its way to markets as craft products that are often felted.

The ram goes first

From the sheep

The ram was first. He is a big one, but under the shearer's control, docile and quiet. 

As the fleece falls from the sheep, it's always a delight to see the color and luster of the wool beneath. 

The color and luster beneath

When the sheep has been shorn, haltered and moved away, the skirting team moves in to pick up the fleece from the ground and move it to the skirting table.

To the skirting table

As pickers, our goal is to keep up with the shearer, that is, we need to be done with skirting by the time the next sheep is shorn. (Sorry, no photos this year of the fleece on the table.)

Bagging the rolled fleece

The fleece skirting table, seen below, has served us well. M. made the wood frame table about 10 years ago. PVC pipes, which roll within a solid wood frame, allow us to move the fleece around, let the less desirable bits fall through to the ground, and provide a solid base to roll the fleece for bagging. The unit sits on two sawhorses.

A dear departed friend, who was a member of this team for years, declared us official members of the ISSPP (International Society of Sheep Poop Pickers). 'Tis true. We pick a lot of poop.

One step closer to market

The bags are full, but the fleece isn't ready for market. K. will open each bag and in many cases, lay them out to thoroughly dry. (It's been a particularly wet year here.) Then she'll go through each of them again to ensure a clean fleece with quality fibers. Some is sold before shearing as fleece and some as roving. And some will go to local and regional markets, including Maryland Sheep and Wool, King's County Fiber Festival in Brooklyn, or Rhinebeck. 

Truly, a direct to consumer operation.