Last April seems like such a long time ago! So much has happened since then ~ gains, losses, lessons, and all the little pieces of daily life in between. Last April, though, is when Mary, Bella, Wilma, and Cricket were shorn, and I embarked on a learning curve that will hopefully lead me to weaving. Last June, I posted a picture of Mary’s wool and told you all that I was just starting this new adventure by cleaning and washing each fleece.  Well, I just finished that task for all four fleeces, and while it definitely took longer than I thought it was going to, I also thoroughly enjoyed spending time with each sheep in my mind while I cleaned. The touch of the wool and the smell of the lanolin seemed to transport me to each one, and I was amazed again at the uniqueness of each of our friends. 

Mary was first, and I had no idea what I was doing. Thanks to our wonderful friend and shearer, Katie Goff, I learned the basics of cleaning and washing a fleece, and I got to work. Of course I had to reinvent the wheel, so instead of just sitting down with my fingers and a pair of grooming scissors, I first tried to work out the pine shavings with a dog comb. That didn’t work. Then I tried to separate each little section one pine shaving at a time. That made me crazy. At some point, I realized that while I was handling the sections of wool, small pieces of wood and hay were falling onto the table ~ and immediately re-attaching to the wool I was supposed to be cleaning because I, of course, would set the section down for reasons that now escape me. I also quickly learned that soon after I began, my hands were coated with lanolin, and all the small pieces of pine stuck to my fingers as I worked. Finally, though, I found my rhythm.  I bought a small baker’s cooling rack to work on so the wood and hay pieces could fall through to the table beneath the wool I held, and I became adept at sticking pine shavings to those I had already put in the discard pile. I grabbed Vega’s grooming scissors, and I started pulling and snipping my way through Mary’s fleece.  

What a lovely surprise awaited me as I worked! My hands were deep in her fleece, and it was so soft! The smell of the lanolin was unlike any scent I had smelled before, and it lingered in the air every time I pulled a section this way or that. The best part, though, was the vision of my Mary I would see as I worked. Mary running to me and planting herself against my legs, wanting a hug. Mary rushing the fence as I walk a dog past it, slamming her hooves down in a brave show of protecting her children. Mary, standing with her head cocked to one side in puzzlement at something I’d said or done.  I was almost done with her fleece before I realized that I was spending a lot of the work time smiling.

Bella’s fleece was next. In my memory of the winter that had past, Bella wasn’t any larger than Mary, but wow, there was a lot more of her wool than of Mary’s! And it was different in texture and color despite the two of them and Cricket all being Shetlands. Where Mary’s wool had many shades of gray and brown in each strand, Bella’s wool had two colors ~ jet black for the first two or three inches and sun-kissed brown at the tips. The wool was thick, too, so thick in places that all I had to do was snip off the tops of the sections, and the pine shavings fell off. What was left was beautiful black wool, so soft that I could feel how warm a sweater would be when made from her fleece. The smell was like Mary’s, though, and as I worked, I saw again my Bella snorting away any treat, wanting to eat only hay. I saw her, our acrobatic sheep, leaping five feet in the air when anyone reached out to try to hold her, then jumping over Cricket and the hay rack in her attempt to get away. I saw her trying to head-butt every cat that came her way, and I smiled as I worked. 

As I gathered Wilma’s fleece to begin cleaning it, I felt a wave of grief wash over me.  I do miss this girl. Her constant, insistent conversation that I could hear in the house if she were outside still resonates through the Little Barn. Her eyes ~ those big, big brown eyes ~ still seem to shoot daggers if I don’t do just right whatever I am doing. Her personality was so unlike the others, and her fleece, too, is unlike the others.  The smell of the lanolin is sweeter, somehow, although I still can’t find a metaphor for the scent. Her wool is shorter, silkier, and almost white now that it’s been washed. The texture is also different from the Sheltlands’ wool. In some places, it looks exactly like human hair; in other places, it’s puffy and oh so soft. I can easily see Wilma’s wool merged with Mary’s ~ the color would be a soft heather gray, the texture would be smooth next to the skin, and the smell would be … well, of Mary and Wilma. 

Cricket’s fleece is so like him ~ strong, springy, solid, but with a welcoming edge to it that feels like it’s already a blanket you can curl into on a cold night. The sections are long, over four inches, and crimped like human hair when it’s been braided wet and allowed to dry in the braids. It’s all shades of brown, no black, white, or sun-kissed strands, and it’s strong, like Cricket. His fleece took the longest to clean, the dense fibers holding onto all the pine shavings they could. As I worked, I could feel his head resting on my shoulder, and see his brown eyes staring into mine. I could watch him toss a cat off my lap with his nose and leap into the air with his spine arched up, landing on all fours, then leaping again. There was very little smell with Cricket’s fleece, just textures and memories.

I’ve decided that cleaning our sheep’s wool is the best way to spend cold winter days. I would build a fire in the wood stove and smile my way through memories of each one. The next step is carding the wool, which is combing all the fiber so that the strands lay in the same direction. I’ve bought a carding drum to help me with this, and I’m looking forward to seeing what lessons I learn and what memories are brought back as I work.  I might have to pick up the pace a bit, though. It’s shearing season again in six weeks!