Leah's fleece

Sweet Leah, the ewe who gave me this beautiful fleece! Unwashed, it weighs in just under 5 pounds. The majority of the fleece is grey, but it's speckled with brown, black and tan bits that I've been carding to make a gorgeous heather. I've been working through it slowly and deliberately, savoring the feeling of lanolin on my hands and taking the time to admire every perfect lock. They're still so connected when you pull them out and away from the fleece, all bundled up in a ball in its bag, you can still see the clear lines of where the shearer cut the fleece away from the sheep and how it all was laid out in one huge motion. It's as close as I can get to this farm without actually living there! 

When I step back to think about it, working with these fibers sometimes seems crazy. I live in suburban North Carolina, and much of the processing that I do happens not in a farm yard in work boots amidst flocks of animals, but on my 10x10 back porch and in my kitchen sink. My fleece dries in our spare bedroom. Moreso, though, it makes me grateful for where I live, that my husband can pursue his passions at a major medical center 15 minutes away, and I can drive less than an hour out in to the country and bring back treasures like this one. Farmers are closer than you probably think! And to get to experience their way of life and the fruits of their labor is why I'm so passionate about this work. It's a really amazing thing.  

I hope this Wednesday, you get to work on projects that bring you joy! 

shearing day

Shearing Day, at Rising Meadow Farm in Liberty, NC. You could feel the excitement in the air - the culmination of months of waiting is this morning, when the 75 beautiful rams and ewes of Rising Meadow lose their fluffy winter coats and usher in spring. And the weather did not disappoint! Cloudy, but nearly 60 degrees. This is why we live in the South, for Februaries like these. 

The rams are being shorn today, and one by one they move from a holding pen inside the barn to their stage, a wooden platform where two strong shearers take on between 4 - 10 pounds of fluff. It is magical - seeing the outside of the coat be slowly snipped away to reveal, sometimes, completely different colors and textures underneath. The rams are atypically calm during this process, lying on their backs in strange angles, and yet totally at peace with this process. It's amazing to witness. The whole fleece gets picked up and carried out to the skirting table, where the fleece is picked over, weighed and bagged, to the delight of spinners and fiber enthusiasts roaming around, checking out all of the beautiful fibers for sale. 

There are CVM Romedale, Corriedale, Navajo Churro and Dorset, all with different locks, crimp, staple length, smiling eyes, and personalities. How am I supposed to just pick one fleece?! I decide on a heathery grey Corriedale, with flecks of tan, brown, black. I love the way that the lanolin feels on my hands, and at the same time I can't wait to get it home, wash it out and card it up to see what it will become. 

For lunch, we have lamb chili and homemade bread, sweet conversations and strangers becoming friends, neighbors reuniting. It was fun to experience both as someone new to the area and the community, and someone who felt instantly at home, even amongst folks I had never met. After saying goodbye to the llamas, alpacas, ewes, chickens and cows, hauling 4 pounds of Leah's fleece to my car and driving home with sheepy smells and fond memories in tow. For me, the banner displayed proudly on the shearing barn says it all: great wool grows in North Carolina. I am so happy to call this place home.