I live in Holland, but I am a New Zealander. In New Zealand we have sheep, lots of sheep. I know about sheep, and wool. I grew up around farms, I did my time working in the wool sheds, in the heat and the noise, among the sheep and the dogs and the shearers bent sweating over the sheep as they worked the fleece off with their rattling mechanical hand pieces. I worked beside them, scooping up the warm fleeces and flinging them over the sorting table, picking off the rough and dirty scraps, rolling the good fleece and pressing it into the bales ready for market. My hands were ingrained and brown with raw lanolin, and the warm wooly smell of the shearing shed, left quiet and resting at the end of the day, is still in my nostrils and my heart.
I love wool. I started spinning and dyeing my own wool just before my daughter was born. I used my first skeins to knit her first baby blanket, and I…
- Joined August 31, 2011