The Independent Stitch

Maryland Sheep & Wool Festival 2012

I'm so far behind on blogging that I'll never catch up, so here's an overview of this year's wonderful Maryland Sheep and Wool Festival. I taught a two-day workshop on rare wools, participated in as much of the book signing as I could get to, and facilitated two walkabout classes in the barns, which was a new event and a lot of crazy fun.

Here's everybody except the photographer (and me; I'm organizing things off to the left) concentrating on a new fiber. (Thanks, Nancy, for taking pictures while I was all-out focused on teaching!)

One of the biggest reasons that I love teaching is the great people I get to meet. And that's a roomful of them.

And here are the fibers at the start of the workshop:

We worked our way through them over two days. Our selection for this workshop included:

• Black Welsh Mountain
• Clun Forest
• Dorset Horn
• Gulf Coast Native
• Jacob (American)
• Leicester Longwool
• Navajo-Churro
• North Ronaldsay
• Oxford
• Romeldale/CVM
• Santa Cruz
• Shetland
• Wensleydale

. . . and, courtesy of BitsyKnits, a sampling of Sharlea, which is a rare wool although not from a rare breed (it's specially grown and prepared Saxon Merino).

Thanks once again to The Spinning Loft and Spirit Trail Fiberworks for making these workshops possible. There's no way I could acquire, wash, and prepare all the fibers myself. I do some of that work: The Spinning Loft does most of it, with essential contributions from Spirit Trail.

On several of the evenings, after we had finished teaching, Maggie Casey and I were lucky enough to walk around the lake near the hotel. (I was looking for a photo of Maggie, but we'll have to settle for a selection of her DVDs and her book.)

The barn walkabouts on Saturday and Sunday mornings were amazing. Registration was limited to a small group so we could move with relative compactness through the barns and talk about wools in connection with the sheep that grow them. We only had time to do barn 8: and it was a full three hours! There was a lot of variety in breeds and many topics to consider. The walkabout description said we'd cover between 10 and 12 breeds. Because they were there, we saw and talked about more than 25!

On Sunday, I juggled myself back and forth between the walkabout, the book signing, and the Parade of Breeds, which is my favorite event at the festival. Here's a Border Cheviot (in front) and a Border Leicester (behind):

My favorite Shetland ram was there again, once again charming everyone within viewing distance. This year he had been shorn before the festival—many more of the sheep were in their summer wear this year than usual. The dogwoods and azaleas had also passed their bloom-time (climate change affecting shearing, as well as blossoms?).

Sue Blacker and Douglas Bence of Blacker Designs and Blacker Yarn in the UK attended the festival and gave a presentation on the value-added work they do to increase shepherds' and farmers' income from the fiber their animals grow. One of the things they have done recently is work with some wonderful, visionary people to produce what is likely the first commercially spun Boreray yarn, and here's a ball of it!

Boreray is a rare breed of sheep from the same small set of islands, called St Kilda, that are home to the Soay. This Boreray yarn is one of two that the Blacker mill is producing. The other will be a blend of finer Boreray fleeces, hand selected, with Soay wool, as a St Kilda laceweight. I can't tell you how exciting this is. It's one of the fantastic ideas that grew out of the odd experience that was UK Knit Camp in 2010.

What with teaching, book signing, and a few wonderful meetings, I finally got to walk around the festival for a short while at the end of Sunday. I spent most of that time taking pictures of sheep. And this Karakul sheep from Redgate Farm looked exactly like I felt at that point:

So it was time to call the festival a huge success and wonderful time, and to go home.

At least for a few days.

Choosing the breeds for Explore 4

For the survey classes on wools that I teach (on both general breed-specific wools and rare-breed wools), I aim to have a variety of types of sheep represented in the fibers I collect to share with people. The final line-up always involves an interesting balancing act, limited by what's available when the fiber-gathering takes place:

• representing different parts of the available fiber world (geographically speaking)
• long / short
• crimpy / wavy / straight
• supple / sturdy
• matte / shiny
• single-coated / diverse fiber mix
• butter-soft / warmly lofty, and, for fun,
• in different colors

Choosing and acquiring the four breeds for the Explore 4 workshop that I'll be teaching in March, where we will focus on a single breed each day, has required the same careful assessment of which will complement each other in ways both obvious and subtle. In this case, I need to cover the broad set of bases with a handful of choices.

It's been a fun challenge, and as of yesterday I've lined up the crew! I've got my breeds, and I've also got the specific fleeces, selected for qualities like individual character and color.

Now—because this is the way I work, with the fiber we'll have in our hands preceding everything else—I can start to prepare detailed background information on the breeds. For the survey courses I teach, I already have the materials roughed out and I refine and adjust them when I know which specific breeds will be included. Yet Explore 4 provides a welcome excuse to present even richer stories about these breeds' history and characteristics.

For Explore 4, we'll be getting to know:

• Black Welsh Mountain (black, of course),
• Leicester Longwool (shiny white and long),
• Navajo Churro (this one will be gray), and
• Romney (I'm getting a brown one: brown Romneys aren't common, and the breed produces gorgeous shades).

The first three are rare breeds, and the fourth is a classic.

That's a Black Welsh Mountain sheep; I took the photo at the Maryland Sheep and Wool Festival a few years ago during the Parade of Breeds. (Last year, my camera wasn't working right and I missed a lot of good pictures, although I have some. I'll be there again this year and will see if I can do better. Same camera, hopefully working more reliably.)

I've already been washing the Leicester Longwool, which I bought at a freeway stop in Oregon last August. (I just needed a few yards of yarn, but I couldn't resist the raw wool.) Isn't it beautiful when it's released from its covering of grease, suint, and garden-variety dirt? The top and bottom in the next photo are the same fleece. All I did was wash it! Yet the luster and potential are clearly evident in the just-shorn state. (Um, the bottom is the clean portion {grin}.)

Speaking of washing, I've been asked to write some background information on how wool gets cleaned for a couple of upcoming online posts on other websites. (I'll try to remember, when these go live, to mention them, either here or on Twitter, where I'm @effortlesszone.)

I do love the transformation that happens in the tub. It's magic. And it's the start of a whole bunch of other magic.

* * * * *

Detail-y stuff, for those who want to know:

I'll be conducting survey workshops—expeditiously covering as many breeds as we can fit into the scheduled hours—at the Madrona Winter Retreat (in Tacoma, Washington) in February, and later in the year at the Maryland Sheep & Wool Festival (schedule not posted as of when I'm writing), Olds College Fibre Week (Canada; registrations open March 1), Convergence 2012 (California; registration open now), and the Weavers Guild of Minnesota (registration open now). I'll also be teaching at The Spinning Loft (Michigan) in the fall, although we haven't decided what topic(s) we'll feature.

In addition, Fleece & Fiber Sourcebook co-author Carol Ekarius and I may be doing a couple of informational programs (not hands-on workshops) together at one 2012 event. We have a good time working together, so we've agreed to see if we can get it onto our schedules. I'll provide details when they're firmed up.

Registration numbers for all my classes and workshops are limited, yet openings do occur—one workshop that sold out on its opening day ended up having a space freed up a couple of months later. It's worth checking back. For all of these workshops, only basic spinning skills and equipment (listed in the descriptions) are necessary. It's all about starting where we are and moving to the next level.

Speaking of moving skills to the next level, I THINK I've figured out how to make the basic information for Explore 4 available here: click to download a PDF about Explore-4_2012. We've got a fantastic group coming together and there are still some spaces available for folks to join in.

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All of the photos of wool in this post, from raw to knitted swatch, are Leicester Longwool. I do need to get a good picture of the Leicester Longwool sheep at Maryland! The photo with the skeins shows a couple of handspuns. I knitted the swatch from commercially prepared yarn.

It's all happening at the zoo. . . . part 1

A month ago, I drove to Wichita, Kansas, to present a session at the annual conference of the American Livestock Breeds Conservancy (ALBC). My session was for people who are keeping rare-breed sheep on how to market their wool to spinners and other fiber folks. This is a part of the conservation equation that I've been envisioning for many years and we finally had an opportunity to put it together. Wow, is it fun to share ideas with people who either have, or intend to soon acquire, rare-breed sheep. I've done that before, with one flock at a time, but we had a bunch of folks together all at once. It was truly delightful.

The daytime events for the conference were held at the Sedgwick County Zoo, which is extremely active in the conservation not only of wild species but also of domesticated breeds of animals.

All participants in the conference were granted access to the zoo itself throughout the event, so during times when all the available sessions were about meat production (not my forte), I walked out the back door of the conference center and looked around.

Domesticated animals

There are three "farm" areas where the livestock conservancy activities are centered: the American farm, the Asian farm, and the African farm. They're called the "Children's Farms," but don't let that mislead you. There's serious business going on here. The format just makes the animals really accessible, so kids (human) can get acquainted with them. (The animals throughout the zoo have access to privacy, and in the case of the farm animals spend their "off hours" in a different set of spaces that are less structured. Not all animals are out where the public can see them.)

In that picture, those are Jacob (spotted) and Navajo-Churro sheep, in the American farm area. What an amazing opportunity for the rare sheep to get to know people, and vice versa!

Signage talks about the ALBC and the breeds' history and status.

There are something like 38 rare livestock breeds in these three farm areas. In addition to the Navajo-Churros (shown pretty clearly in the photo above), there are the American Jacobs, with a better photo here. . . .

. . . and Karakuls, in the Asian farm. . . .

. . . and American Tunis, located in the African farm area. I suspect the location decision occurred because, although the breed is 100% American, its roots began in north Africa. . . .

I also spotted this little goat in the African farm. I don't know what kind it is, other than exceptionally cute. I'll bet it's also mischievous. Goats are, in general, and then there's that extremely innocent look on this one's face. . . .

There are other fiber animals in the farms, including camels (although these are dromedaries, not the Bactrian camels that produce most camel down and hair):

. . . and yaks, over in Asia.

I don't have a fancy camera. Throughout this zoo, I found I had an amazing ability to get close enough for decent snapshots. The reconciliation of visitors' access and residents' privacy needs was masterfully accomplished through the design of the spaces.

Here are a few other ALBC-listed residents of the farm areas.

A Poitou donkey, outside, and what I'm thinking is an American Mammoth Jackstock, mostly inside. . . .

On the other side of the fence are American Cream horses, which are large draft horses. Yes, the equine population involves a lot of very large animals (also miniature donkeys, although I didn't get their picture taken).

There are also a number of types of cattle, including the Ancient White Park, which is horned (the American White Park, genetically quite different, is polled, or hornless).

I think this is a Japanese silkie chicken:

I don't think it's rare, but it is fun to see.

These photos just hint at who's hanging out in the farm areas. The zebus were astonishing.

I did wander off to see some of the "regular" zoo areas as well. I'll start another post for that section.

Falkland Islands wool

I'm way behind on blog posts. I have several in the works. I just got back from The National Needlework Association trade show in Ohio (great conversations surrounded by super yarn, terrific tools, and so on). I have pictures. They're coming.

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Meanwhile, a couple of groups on Ravelry, the site for yarnaholics, have been wondering about Falklands wool. There's information in The Fleece and FIber Sourcebook, although not the full treatment because it's not a breed. (Not because it's not fascinating.) I responded, but might as well put the information here, where I can find it again, too. No pictures. No time. Plus this topic is a hard one to photograph on the spur of the moment. I have some Falklands top, but I don't have enough variety to illustrate the points I'll make.

Falklands wool is grown in the Falkland Islands. That's it. The name is a geographic indicator, not a breed designation—the indicator does tell you something about the wool, although what it tells you is a story with several parts.

The Falklands are located off the coast of South America. They are a U.K. overseas territory, and sheep raising has been by far the most significant economic activity, although fishing is being added to the mix. The shepherds are really serious about their wool, having had more markets for fiber than for meat, and they are creative in developing and maintaining its quality. They generally work with crosses to improve the productivity of their animals. Each shepherd's view and results are individual, although they definitely work together so the entire clip is of high quality. Because of the environment (challenging), they raise sturdy sheep and there are few pests to contend with, so pest-preventive measures that are necessary in many other parts of the world aren't required.

Defining what Falklands wool is, then, is a moving target. Thus the range of micron counts and qualities. It should be, regardless of those particulars, a very white, somewhat open, easy-spinning wool. SOME will be appropriate for use next to the skin. SOME will be better (and more durable) for making outerwear. If you find a source that you like, get more. Don't assume that Falklands wool you get elsewhere will be the same. Each mill run will be consistent, but from one to the next may not, especially if you put some years between your acquisitions.

Historically, according to Michael Ryder (not this one), the foundations of the Falklands flocks were built on Corriedales and Romneys. The Falkland Islanders have also brought in Polwarths (sometimes referred to in that part of the world as Ideals), and there are now experiments with infusing bloodlines from a couple of strains of Merino.

As you might gather from that information, the overall progression is toward finer wool. That's true for wool as a part of the global commodity market, not only in the Falklands. In the industrial sense (and for the bottom lines of medium to large producers), finer is definitely a better income-generating prospect.

For handmade textiles, that's not the case. Qualities of fiber other than diameter have great value to us. For example, we may gravitate toward luster, a variety of crimp patterns, different textures, and natural colors. (There are natural-colored sheep in the Falklands, but their wool is not incorporated into the commercially processed top that is generally available.)

When you come across the designation "Falklands wool," you can know it is a high-quality fiber that is almost certainly white.

I'm going to fail at not including a photo. I have fiber. I have a handspindle. Here's some Falkland Islands top:

This particular top remembers its Corriedale ancestors. Staple length is about 6.5 inches (16.5 cm). It has nice body, a bit of luster, and pleasant but not obsessive crimp. You could spin it a lot thicker than I did, and more loosely, too, and end up with a lovely yarn. This was just what I felt like spinning in the moment, plied back on itself, straight off the spindle.

(The ruler isn't bent. That's a distortion that happens with the camera.)

Falklands wool. Worth exploring, for sure.

Maryland Sheep and Wool Festival: Yet another fine time

Time has been zooming past. I've been to Maryland (more on that in a moment), California to teach (few photos, although I've asked the organizers if they can send me some that they took in my workshop), and downstairs to the basement office at home, to catch up (at least partially) on paperwork. I can hardly believe that it was already two weeks ago today that I flew east to the Maryland Sheep and Wool Festival, and one week ago today that I flew the other direction, to the Conference of Northern California Handweavers.

In nine days I traveled about 6200 miles, and in my three days at home between the two spurs of that bifurcated journey I managed to get a freight shipment out (550 pounds of books to a Pennsylvania warehouse) and handle enough other details to keep the household and businesses at least nominally afloat.

No wonder I've felt a little less productive than usual for the past few days and that this blog post got started but not finished.

Maryland!

I love the Maryland Sheep and Wool Festival. Some time I need to look back in my records and see which was the year I first attended, after Linda Berry Walker of WoodsEdge Wools had urged Interweave to have a presence there for Spin-Off for quite a while. I was editor of Spin-Off. I think the first year we attended Maryland ad manager Sharon Altergott (a long-time good friend) and I went to the festival just to look it over. Before we left at the end of the weekend, we put in an application to have a booth the next year.

We didn't need a lot of space at the festival because we simply promoted spinning and Interweave's products, which were for sale from other vendors. We had a shallow half-booth in front of the utility room in what was then called Building V, and is now the Main Building (booth 18B). That became our home base for many following years.

Over time, my practice became to do set-up on Friday night and also perform a quick survey of the other booths to discover a fiber that would be catchy for people to watch me demonstrate with: color was always a draw. Early Saturday morning, I'd show up at the booth I'd identified, buy my fiber for the weekend, and then return to "home" and start spinning and talking with folks about spinning. Because we traveled light, I always used a handspindle, although occasionally I was loaned a wheel to try out for an hour or two. One year I spun all weekend on a Navajo spindle. Another year, fairly early in our time there, a new exhibitor showed up in the booth next door to the left along "our" wall—a young woman, named Maie Landra, working with her mother to present her lovely hand-dyed yarns and the designs she created to showcase them. In subsequent years, the woman's infant daughter joined them, and it went on from there . . . the young woman called her company Koigu. Now her yarns have become well-known favorites within the knitting community.

Lots of similar stories weave through my memories of the Maryland Sheep and Wool Festival. Because booth assignments tended to stay relatively stable, we developed a sense of neighborhood throughout and within the parts of the festival. Even with all the changes over the years, the festival overall still feels that way to me.

We only had two or three people staffing the Interweave booth, so breaks were infrequent. We put in long days, mostly standing on the concrete floor, but we worked beautifully together and got to meet many fine people who were either working the festival or visiting it. I remember many specific conversations. Sharon, more of a social organizer than I am, made sure we got some visiting time with other folks on Saturday night.

A couple of years ago, when it was time for Kristi Schueler to take the author photos that would be used on The Fleece and Fiber Sourcebook, I wore a vest for which I spun the yarn at Maryland and I held the cherry spindle on which I'd made the yarn. From purchase to plying, I made the vest's yarn during a single weekend, while talking with folks, using a variegated commercial roving with a bit of flash in it that I had bought from a Building V vendor. I did spin the yarn I used for trim at home later (because I ran out of the Maryland yarn just shy of finishing the front edgings). The vest, my own design, was shown in an early issue of Interweave Knits, although the instructions as printed in the magazine didn't precisely represent the way I made the garment; they were more generic and didn't describe the intricate ribbing that flows without a break into the main body patterning.

Hmmm. I bought the cherry spindle, one of my all-time favorites, at Maryland, too, from Noel Thurner of Norsk Fjord Fiber. . . . Noel has pretty much retired from that business now, as have a number of other folks who are still firmly part of the festival in my heart.

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So Maryland feels like "home" to me in many ways, and I was delighted that Storey Publishing decided to have a book launch there for The Fleece and Fiber Sourcebook. For the launch, Storey sponsored the AfterParty organized by Guido Stein on Saturday evening, and we participated in a book signing on the festival grounds on Sunday.

The AfterParty was held at the Sheraton Columbia Town Center Hotel, in one of the ballrooms.

Most of it was a bit of a blur, because I'm not especially focused when I'm part of one of the featured events, but I loved that Storey gave away five books as part of the door-prize drawings. It was sort of a jackpot thing: for five of the door prizes, if your ticket was called you ALSO got a copy of the book!

Carol and I did a presentation on the process of making the book. We'd been asked to prepare a ten-minute routine, so we put together an appropriate number of slides. Yet it was all ad-lib, and folks seemed to like the details so we went on longer than that.

Here's the first slide, before the party began, after a collaborative crew had set up the projector, sized the picture/screen relationship, and keystoned the image (made it look square on the screen). The situation wasn't a great one for good photos, but the pictures hint at what went on.

Pam Art, president of Storey Publishing, introduced us. She's in the light blue below. I'm on the left, in a purple cotton handknitted sweater (great for summer events in air-conditioned rooms). Co-author Carol Ekarius is behind Pam, and organizer Guido Stein is in the white shirt on the right.

Guido's mother was there this year. She is as nice and as interesting as a person can be, and I had a great time talking with her. She had ideas for us involving international educational outreach about fibers that will require multiple cloning of ourselves and a bunch of years to implement, but we've started on them. . . . 

Some books were available for sale and signing at the party. Most of the stash was held back for the signing at the fairgrounds on Sunday.

Because Storey sponsored the party, the event raised about $1,000 for rescue organization Star Gazing Farm.

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On Sunday, Carol and I signed books steadily for an hour and a quarter and then they were all gone. The copies that were there were air-freighted in, so the number was limited. The rest of the print run was still on the boat, coming by more economical means. We did have special bookplates that we signed for folks who were there but were in line too late to get the book itself.

And we didn't have to worry about missing the Parade of Breeds (a concern I'd had since I heard about the timing of the book signing). We were at the show ring in plenty of time!

Can digital cameras wear out? I was having trouble getting good photos of the sheep, although I was in a good position. The shutter speeds were correct, but it seemed to take about three-quarters of a second between when I pressed the button and the shutter fired. This is new. Changing batteries didn't help. Sheep can move a lot in three-quarters of a second. I have blurry images of all sorts of critters.

Yet I did get a few halfway decent photos at the Parade of Breeds, mostly, I think, through luck. Here are some Jacobs, with enough movement to be interesting, not completely out of focus.

Colonial Williamsburg's Leicester Longwools make regular appearances in the parade.

Scottish Blackfaces were represented by this delightful character.

This Shetland ram was not only incredibly handsome but very friendly. He charmed me completely. His people said that he'd be happy to go home with me, and if it had been feasible, I'd have been tempted! Yet I don't think they would have wanted to give him up. He was wonderful.

Suffolks have such fascinating faces. The wool is often overlooked by both shepherds and textile folk, yet can produce an exceptionally versatile, serviceable yarn, superb for making mittens, sweaters, hats, blankets, and other items that see daily use and provide a lot of comfort. As a spinner, I'd rather see the wool at full length, instead of trimmed for the show ring.

There was a lovely group of American Tunis, lambs and adults, showing the color shift from cinnamon to oatmeal (with color remaining on faces and legs) as the animals mature.

Not from the Parade of Breeds, but from when I was wandering around the barns, here's Sue Bundy, one of the people involved in Solitude Wool. She has American Karakuls at her RedGate Farm. She's brushing the fleece before showing one of her sheep, while a couple of others from her flock look on in the background.

I didn't get much shopping done, although a friend had sent me with her budget and a mission that I fulfilled. I did get some lightweight wooden cardweaving cards for myself, something I hadn't seen before that I have a reason to use within the next six months. And a Lincoln Longwool t-shirt, bright pink, that will become a regular part of my life at home.

Ah, Maryland.

We had a great time.

Thanks to everyone who played a part in making it happen.

And now I'd better get this post up, before another week wings by.

Is using wool cruel?

Yesterday I received a comment from a friend that contained several questions, and I wrote a comment in response that really needs to be a blog post, even though it's not something I'd ordinarily write about. There will be no pictures, either, for which we are all grateful. Not even links to pictures of some of the topics (but I found some great links for others).

The short answer: NO, using wool is not cruel. It involves a symbiotic relationship between two species. Sheep either shed their wool and it can then be gathered for human use, or they are shorn for health reasons and the wool then becomes something the sheep doesn't need any more and humans are free to use.

With the breeds that shed, which are relatively uncommon these days, the symbiosis is an example of commensalism, in which one side of the exchange (humans) benefits and the other (sheep) is neither harmed nor aided. With shearing the relationship is one of mutualism, where both sides benefit. Either way, the sheep are not harmed by the use of their wool.

Yet there are reasons why this discussion of cruelty takes place.

Here's the comment with its questions:

Hi Deb, A well-meaning but misguided vegan acquaintance told me it was cruel to knit with wool and that man was mistreating sheep for their wool. I think she based that outrageous statement on what she heard about Australian merinos. Can you discuss a bit about the need for man to shear sheep (are there sheep that don't need shearing? and why the majority do need shearing?) and can you educate me on the whole merino controversy thing? If the above questions are not to your liking/not your area of interest, I'll understand.

Here's the response I wrote, with a couple of additions:

Hi, Dina. Ah, yes. As a vegetarian advocating for sheep, I take some heat from both sides. The current economy requires that flocks be managed for their meat sales; I've been accused of being disloyal to the entire enterprise of raising sheep because I don't eat meat. On the other side, well-meaning vegetarians and vegans who haven't been around sheep—or who have seen some of the information on a particular practice with Australian Merinos—react hard in the "cruelty" direction, as your friend has done.

I've studied the issues involved. I am comfortable with my own life choice in being a vegetarian. I've been one for a very long time. While recognizing the realities of the contemporary market, part of my work—in alignment with my personal philosophy—has the intention of increasing the economic value of wool as a way of supporting the shepherds in their work, so that fiber becomes a bigger part of the overall picture and a more substantial reason for maintaining healthy, contented flocks of these amazing animals in all their astonishing diversity.

And as I have studied sheep and other fiber animals I have had to look at the accusations of cruelty in order to get a comprehensive picture of why this controversy exists and what my thoughts about it are.

On the Australian Merino controversy

The practice your friend has heard about is called mulesing, and don't put that term into your search engine unless you want to be grossed out. (I've linked to a Wikipedia article that gives a good overview with no illustrative material.) It's appalling, and some of the photos are worse. I don't like to think about it, much less talk about it. THAT SAID, I have done my research, because I needed to know. (1) The practice prevents flystrike, which can be gruesomely painful and fatal to the animals (worse than the mulesing, which is why it's done—and there are also photos on the web of flystrike resulting in death) and (2) the practice is being eliminated, although it has not been completely phased out because alternatives to prevent flystrike need to be in place or the elimination of the practice will result in more suffering for the animals.

Australia has massive flocks of Merino sheep. Management techniques for livestock on that scale are very different than the management techniques used for smaller flocks, or even of huge flocks of breeds other than Merinos, who are noted for growing large quantities of exceptionally fine wools. Merinos have also been bred to have skin that occurs in loose folds (producing more surface area for the growing of more wool), which increases their susceptibility to flystrike. Climate is a factor, as are seasonal variations; flystrike is worse when it has been especially rainy. In areas where flystrike occurs and the resident animals are susceptible to it, it needs to be prevented.

Mulesing as a practice for controlling flystrike is something I'd love to see disappear completely . . . yesterday, or sooner. There's an interesting article on the topic—one of the authors is Bernie Rollin, a well-known animal ethicist whose work I respect enormously—in one of the scholarly journals. Getting a copy of the entire article requires $$ or access through an academic library, but the abstract gives the gist.

Management in flocks that are less than massive can provide more individualized attention to the sheep (including Merinos). That means that husbandry practices can also be individualized. The sheep I frequently write about that are on the RBST and ALBC lists are in small flocks. There aren't enough of them to make really big flocks (which is okay: they don't fit environments that can handle large flocks).
In fact, the Australian Merino situation does not reflect general sheep husbandry practices in other breeds and other parts of the world, for many reasons. It has changed some already, and it does need to change more.

On shearing

There are sheep that don't need shearing. They fall into two basic groups: hair sheep (they may have wool as well as hair, but not much and it sheds) and the so-called primitive breeds that shed seasonally.

As humans have kept sheep over the millennia, they have bred to maximize the soft wool and minimize the hair and kemp components of the three-part original fleece. (The Merino has no hair or kemp at all.) Hair is a useful item, although not for soft clothing, and kemp produces a tweedy texture. However, for processing it's easiest just to have wool and not to have to separate out, or deal with, the three types of fiber. Breeding that emphasizes wool was a convenience for hand processing and a necessity for mechanical processing on a large scale.

Along with the increase in wool percentages in a breed's fleeces, and the drop in hair and kemp components, came a loss of the natural tendency to shed. (Genetics is complicated: when you get one quality you want, you may lose another that's useful.) This led to the need to shear. It can also be more convenient to shear: all the wool at one time, from all the sheep, in one location. Beats pulling it off bushes. In addition, although some sheep—even some Merinos—can go without shearing for quite a while (do check out the story of Shrek the sheep in a search engine), leaving the wool in place for too long can result in skin problems and other health difficulties.

A good shearer will remove the fleece in one lovely piece without causing any distress or injury to the animal. There's a lot of skill involved. In fact, after a proficient shearing the sheep will bounce back onto its feet and dart away, looking like it's just taken a weight off. (It should have been immobilized by the shearer in a comfortable position: a lack of struggling and a benign look on the sheep's face indicate that the position is right.) The shearing process, done well, looks almost like a dance: yes, there's a lot of muscle in it—dance requires muscle, too. We need more good shearers. And lots more dancing.

Although I haven't shorn sheep myself (I have clipped a goat), I've watched shearers on many occasions, in several cultures, and have also attended a shearing school and watched people learning to do this work. I read Godfrey Bowen's Wool Away: The Art and Technique of Shearing shortly after it was published in 1974. I recommend it strongly for an understanding of the process. Another fine resource, with great photos, is Kevin Ford's Shearing Day.

Human breeding has produced the need to shear sheep. There need be no harm caused—it's just like getting a haircut. (Note that small children who aren't used to having their hair washed or cut may object loudly, to the point where it appears they're being abused, yet leaving their hair unwashed and unpruned could be considered neglect.)

I don't mind a few second cuts in a fleece. They indicate the shearer's intention to err on the side of slightly damaging the wool rather than nicking the animal's skin. When I get ready to wash wool that has been freshly shorn, I can easily brush these bits off, so they disappear before they ever have a chance to get in the way of yarn preparation. (Lots of second cuts, of course, reflect a lack of proficiency in shearing.)

There are great opportunities to watch shearing demonstrations at fiber festivals. I most enjoy watching blade-shearing: the level of skill involved is amazing, and it's beautifully efficient. Blade-shearing involves the use of shears, like great big scissors, rather than mechanical clippers.

Blade-shearing leaves more wool on the sheep than mechanical shearing—not as close a haircut, and (except possibly for the shearers' choice of music) it's a lot quieter. There's a great video here.

If you watch the video, pay attention to the way the shearer handles the sheep, and to the animal's complete lack of distress throughout the shearing and in the way she leaves the shearing area. The shears are—and must be!—extremely sharp (at the end of the video, the shearer touches up the blades before beginning on the next sheep). Every movement is precisely orchestrated and timed so that the shearing happens as quickly as possible and without harming the animal (or the shearer). The entire clipping takes less than three minutes. Note the way the shearer changes his own and the sheep's positions; the sheep needs to be relaxed so it will not make any sudden movements and be cut as the wool is removed. Watch especially the way the shearer moves the ears out of the way, and how he coordinates his actions when he removes the wool from the legs.

There's more information on shearing here.

At the Maryland Sheep and Wool Festival, there have for years been a few blade-shearing demos outside the main building. This year, as apparently happened last year as well (I wasn't there), the festival will be hosting the only blade-shearing competition in the United States. It's happening on the stage between 10 and 1 on Sunday, May 8, 2011. (I'll be doing the book signing from 10 to 2, except when I plan to sneak out and watch the Parade of Breeds at 12:30. Maybe I'll get a peek in at the end of the shearing while I'm walking around.)

In sum

Your friend is well intended. This is a case where an opinion about a complex topic gets formed without going deeply enough into understanding the issues and forces involved. Your friend's impulse is right: the practice is wrong. Yet the solution to this wrongness needs to be as sophisticated as the situation that it addresses, and needs to be appropriately applied, not forced into place in areas where the problem doesn't exist. Like putting out a general call against the use of all wool.

What's a good path through this thicket?

* Know your shepherd!

* Get acquainted with the sheep who are growing your wool!

You can do this in person or by letter or internet.

On another topic

I look forward to the time when people quit docking dogs' tails and cropping their ears for reasons not directly related to the individual animal's health or safety.

Rare Breeds Survival Trust's 2011 Watchlist for sheep

The Rare Breeds Survival Trust, which monitors the status of livestock breeds in the British Isles, has published its 2011 Watchlist of breeds that need attention to stay, as they say, off the slippery slope to extinction. From the whole list (a PDF), I'm focusing here on the sheep:

Categories are based on numbers of breeding females.

CRITICAL (category 1)

• Boreray

ENDANGERED (category 2)

• Leicester Longwool
• North Ronaldsay

VULNERABLE (category 3)

• Castlemilk Moorit
• Devon & Cornwall Longwool
• Hill Radnor
• Teeswater
• Whitefaced Woodland

AT RISK (category 4)

• Balwen
• Cotswold
• Lincoln Longwool
• Manx Loaghtan
• Norfolk Horn
• Oxford Down
• Portland
• Soay
• Wensleydale
• Whiteface Dartmoor

MINORITY (category 5)

• Dorset Down
• Dorset Horn
• Greyface Dartmoor
• Shropshire

A few random notes:

* The Norfolk Horn is not the original breed, but has been bred back up from near-extinction (just a few sheep), using in part one of the more modern breeds that had previously been developed from a Norfolk Horn foundation, the Suffolk. Called the New Norfolk Horn for a while, the "New" part of the name has now been dropped, even though the successors may only carry part of the genetic heritage of the original breed.

* The Isle of Man cares so much about its traditional Manx Loaghtan sheep that during the foot-and-mouth epidemic of 2001 the parliament, known as the Tynwald, cancelled one of the island's highest-earning tourist events (a massive and famous motorcycle race) in order to reduce the possibility that the sheep would be exposed to the illness.

* The Dorset Down and Dorset Horn are not the same as what is often just called the Dorset (also known as the Polled Dorset, which, oddly, originated in two different locations from two different breeding efforts). (The Dorset Down is one of the six basic Down breeds. The Dorset Horn and the Polled Dorset, while they have Down-like wool, are not on that short list.)

* The Southdown is not on the RBST list, but is on the similar list prepared by the American Livestock Breeds Conservancy (ALBC). The two organizations have different criteria for evaluating populations.

The information released with the new edition of the watchlist notes that some livestock breeds have recently become more vulnerable because of world economic conditions. People who could previously have kept a small flock have had to sell their animals.

I like the format of the new list. It also notes that, over time, the following sheep breeds have progressed from category 1 (critical) to category 5 (minority) and currently have large enough populations to have been discharged from the equivalent of the breed ICU (intensive care unit), at least for now:

• Black Welsh Mountain
• Hebridean
• Jacob
• Kerry Hill
• Lleyn
• Llanwenog
• Ryeland
• Shetland
• Southdown
• South Wales Mountain
• Wiltshire Horn (a hair sheep)

A separate section of the RBST site tracks breeds of sheep that are vulnerable because their populations are concentrated in very limited geographic areas. The categories are based on how small an area contains 75 percent of the breed's population. Breeds at risk for this reason include:

CRITICAL (category 1)

• Exmoor Horn 
• Whiteface Dartmoor

ENDANGERED (category 2)

• Rough Fell

VULNERABLE (category 3)

• Herdwick

AT RISK (category 4)

• Devon Closewool

MINORITY (category 5)

• Devon & Cornwall Longwool

You'll note that the Whiteface Dartmoor and the Devon & Cornwall Longwool face the double whammy of limited overall numbers and high geographic concentration.

Changes among the sheep from the previous list

I need to keep and archive copies of the official lists, marked by the year (the RBST PDF for this year is clearly labeled, but I think that's new). I do have extensive notes, and copies of web pages, and (somewhere) dog-eared copies of pages pulled from old copies of RBST and ALBC publications.

Breeds don't tend to move quickly up or down on either the ALBC or RBST lists: conservation is a slow process. For The Fleece and Fiber Sourcebook, co-author Carol Ekarius (the livestock person, to my fiber side of the equation) wisely suggested that we provide a label for "conservation breeds" instead of listing specific categories for the individual breeds. That overall status isn't going to change quickly, whereas the breeds' specific locations within the population assessments do move over broad swaths of time.

Handfuls of individuals can make a major difference in a breed's prospects—in either direction. Any shift in status, either up or down, is worth remarking on.

According to my notes, there were two shifts among the sheep from 2010 to 2011.

• Cotswold moved to category 4 (at risk) from category 5 (minority)
• Whitefaced Woodland moved to category 3 (vulnerable) from category 4 (at risk)

These breeds have both moved in the more vulnerable direction, toward lower populations. They are breeds with very deep histories, each located with a specific landscape.

Cotswold

Cotswold, one of the luster longwools, comes from the Cotswold Hills, on the western and southern edge of central England (how's that for a confusing description? check the map for the area I'm talking about). The breed once was a major support of the British economy.

It is a lovely handspinning wool, excellent for knitting and crocheting and exquisite for weaving. The breed contains genetics for a range of shiny fleece colors from black through a variety of grays to glistening whites.

Whitefaced Woodland

Whitefaced Woodland, from sheep with durable constitutions that originated in the southern part of the Pennine mountain range, produces fiber that is quite variable from animal to animal, with some coarser and some relatively finer (although none gets past "medium" in feel). The wool, like their faces, is white.

I knitted the swatch with Aran-weight Whitefaced Woodland yarn from Garthenor (spun at Sue Blacker's mill). The pattern is #107 from Knitting Patterns Book 250 by Hitomi Shida.

_____

P.S.

Sheepwatching notes: Even though its breed is not labeled, and I am (as noted above) a fiber rather than a livestock person, and I'm open to information that might correct my notes, if I had to say what breed is in the photo at the top of the RBST's list I'd sure pick Oxford.

The sheep in the photo is undoubtedly one of the six core Down breeds, because of its colored face and white wool—well, and the general shape of the face. Three of the six core Down breeds are on the current Watchlist (Dorset Down, Oxford Down, Shropshire; a fourth, Southdown, is on the ALBC rare breeds list; Hampshire Down and Suffolk are not on either list). There are other breeds that have colored faces and white wool, but the Down breeds have a kind of characteristic "puffy" look (that's a highly scientific descriptor that I just made up).

It isn't a Dorset Down, because they have lighter colored (generally brownish) faces. (It's not a Dorset Horn, because they have white faces and they also have distinctive horns on both rams and ewes!)

Shropshire is another possibility, and Shropshires' faces are darker than those of Dorset Downs, but they have a somewhat differently shaped profile and growth pattern of wool on the face.

Although not all Oxfords have as much wool on their faces as the sheep in the picture, many do (and some have even more). Plus the face shape is Oxford-y, if I dare say such a thing. Oxfords are sturdy sheep, and they are exceptionally large. Size isn't something we can gauge from that head shot, but we can get hints of posture. And that sheep looks like it's standing in an Oxford pose: sort of upright and staunch. I vote for Oxford.

3 pounds 10 ounces (1.6 kg)

Yesterday the first six (6) copies of The Fleece and Fiber Sourcebook arrived at the publisher's. This morning, I received an overnight box.

What you probably can't see on that package is the weight on the label: 5 pounds (that's 2.27 kg). Of course, that includes the packaging. Yet it's unquestionably a substantial shipment.

I want to share with you one of the most magical moments in publishing: the first glimpse of the completed book. It's still thrilling, even after all these years in publishing. Despite the fact that it's a given that the work will not be perfect (no book ever is, no matter how hard everyone works to achieve perfection). The experience of seeing and opening the REAL book for the first time is an event to savor.

There are lots of photos in this post. I have made them as small as possible; I hope they won't tax anyone's internet connection, so you can enjoy this process along with me.

Packaging components = outer carton, bubble-wrap, and lightweight brown paper protective wrapping.

The people at Storey understand how special this moment is. Editor Gwen Steege made sure this copy got shipped to me as soon as possible, prepared like the treat that it is.

Wonderful paper, tied with yarn. Need to examine the wrappings properly. There's a little hide-and-seek involved.

And a variety of critter variations—I'm only including those that regularly provide fiber.

Turning the package over to open it without tearing the paper, more sheep show up:

Inside: a real book. You mean we've been making a book? That's been the theory, but this is when it feels like something other than a mirage that keeps receding into the distance instead of getting closer.

It's thick.

I took it downstairs to the office and weighed it. Book alone: 3 pounds 10 ounces (1.6 kg).

Opening up: We ran out of room for the maps inside, so a creative decision put them on the front and back endpapers. Editor Deb Burns masterminded this piece. Easy to refer to!

Here's the official first spread:

And looking at a few familiar pages, out of order because I'm just browsing, seeing them finally in the form they have been destined for:

. . . I remember spinning those . . . and these. . . . 

Those are the Lincoln Longwool samples up there. Here's part of the treatment of the Romneys:

Co-author Carol Ekarius is especially brilliant at locating material for fascinating sidebars. We all ended up searching for just the right animal photos, but Carol did the heavy lifting on that part of the book, in conjunction with photo editor Mars Vilaubi at Storey. I'm especially fond of that Romney photo, although don't, please, ask me to choose favorite pictures. I can't; there are too many candidates.

Shortly after the book arrived, Carol and I were on Skype, typing messages back and forth. She had meetings all afternoon and was going to have to wait until she got home to see if she had a box, too.

Here's some of the Karakul information. . . .

And something I'm seeing for the first time: the index, prepared by Kathryn Bright, who is a fiber and animal person as well as a professional indexer (among her other amazing skills). I'm so pleased that she was available for this job.

Area maps from the back endpaper, and photos of two relieved writers (my photo was taken by Kristi Schueler, another multiply gifted fiber person—thanks again for making me look so good, Kristi!).

And the back cover, with a bunch of wonderful quotes by people I didn't know had seen advance copies and sent such encouraging words to introduce the work to potential readers (and browsers: the book is really friendly both to random-and-casual and to linear-and-comprehensive encounters).

Returning to the front. . . .

Both Carol Ekarius and I thought we'd see copies for the first time at the Maryland Sheep and Wool Festival. It's delightful to have this opportunity to get to know the book ahead of time.

Yes, this is the book I have wanted to consult myself. It's in a form that is beautiful and, unlike the clutter of research notes and files or even the proofing pages, easy to leaf through.

Wow. It's real.

___

John Polak, who took all the studio pictures, was interviewed recently on how to photograph fiber.

Interviewer: "Tell me about a particularly interesting shoot or challenge that you have taken on, in photographing fiber arts/textiles."

John's response, shortened: "A new release this Spring titled The Fleece and Fiber Sourcebook authored by Deborah Robson & Carol Ekarius. . . . The process of shooting that book with the author and the art director, here in my studio, and keeping all these fibers organized and labeled was immense. But the result is probably the most beautiful book I’ve ever worked on."

___

It is indeed beautiful, thanks to all the folks associated with Storey who worked to make it so—more wonderful folks than I can mention here, but Mary Velgos devised and implemented the most amazing design concept I've ever worked with. Maybe ever seen. I'm very, very grateful to everyone involved.

And I'm delighted that it's almost ready to share with other folks . . . as soon as the main shipment arrives on the ship, clears customs, and gets delivered to the various warehouses. Soon!

This year's classes and workshops--all on rare-breed wools

With major help from Beth Smith at The Spinning Loft and Jennifer Heverly at Spirit Trail Fiberworks, supply-gathering for the workshops and classes I'll be teaching this year is proceeding as it needs to. I'll be at the Conference of Northern California Handweavers (CNCH, May, California) and the Spin-Off Autumn Retreat (SOAR, October, New Hampshire).

As of today, we have all the fibers for the May workshop! Now moving forward to prep for SOAR. . . .

I keep talking about this as if it's a big deal. It is. ALL of this year's workshops are focused on rare-breed wools (see that word rare in there?). Some are easier to get our hands on than others, but none of them is a run-of-the-mill [sic] fiber. For CNCH, we are making up 192 packets of fiber. For SOAR, we need 845 samples. I try to think about one breed and one workshop at a time. And that there will only be between 15 and 18 students in each class (otherwise we'd have even more packets).

Here's the line-up of 2011 classes:

Conference of Northern California Handweavers

One 12-hour workshop, over 1.5 days (8 hours + 4 hours)—Rare Breed Wools for Spinners

Some of the most wonderful and practical fibers come from what are now rare breeds of sheep. Come discover kindly wools and beaver wools, double-coats and singles, lusters that have shine and body, classics that have bounce and warmth . . . and, in a number of these breeds, a rainbow of sheepy colours. If we don’t use these fibers, we’ll lose them! We can’t use them—or know what we’re missing—if we don’t know what they are. We’ll explore the range of fleeces, with a focus on the rare ones but likely with a couple of baseline standards thrown in so you can feel the differences, and we’ll spin, play, and open doors of possibility. (12 breeds.)

Spin-Off Autumn Retreat

One 18-hour workshop, over 3 days—An In-Depth Look at Rare Wools

You don’t need a lot of experience to enjoy this class in unusual wools—just a willingness to have adventures. Rare-breed wools come in a huge variety of colors, textures, lengths, and descriptions. They can also be hard to obtain, and spinners often don’t know how to begin working with them. Come get your hands on a selection, and learn how to feel comfortable in the spinnerly wilds! Beginning with the shearing season and a group of special contacts, we’re collecting for this workshop’s pleasure fleeces from as many as 15 rare breeds of sheep listed by the American Livestock Breeds Conservancy and the Rare Breeds Survival Trust. You should have plenty to experiment with in class, and perhaps a bit extra to take home and play with.

One 5.5-hour workshop, 1 day—An Intro to Rare Wools

Here’s an all-day excursion that will introduce you to some of the types of wool grown by rare breeds of sheep. We’re putting together a diverse collection of fleece varieties—aiming for 8, so we’ll have a very busy day—to whet your appetite and increase your confidence in dealing with unusual fibers.

Four 3-hour retreat sessions, two per day over 2 days—An Overview of Rare Wools

Come join a quick jaunt through the possibilities of rare-breed wools. You’ll get an overview of what breeds are rare, and why, and you’ll get your hands on samples of at least 6 breeds. Because of the time constraints, this will be a quick hike through the territory, but you’ll come away with a good idea of what the fuss is all about.

Last I heard, there was an available space or two in the CNCH workshop in May.

Registration for SOAR opened two days ago, on April 12. As of this morning, both of my workshops and two of the retreat sessions have waiting lists. When I looked, there were still openings in the Friday morning and Saturday afternoon retreat sessions. I haven't been to SOAR since 1999. It will be good to be back there!

I'm going to "steal" two of the photographs from the SOAR site. I think it's only fair. I took the pictures. They just added the rules around the outside and the drop shadows. (I like the effect. If I had more time, I might do that to some of the regular photos I post here.)

 

Because I took these photos, I can give you more information about them than is available on the SOAR site. The sheep on the left is a Cotswold (photo from the Maryland Sheep and Wool Festival Parade of Breeds), the wool in the middle is Cotswold wool (the line underneath is 4 inches or 10 cm long), and the sheep on the right is a light-phase Soay ewe who lives in Cumbria (and is shedding her wool).

By the way, I love to hear ahead of time from folks who are coming to events that I'll be attending. It helps me feel like I'm going into an environment of friends. I also have a lot more fun planning classes when I know I'll have real people there and not just numbers ("maximum so-many participants").

I'm also planning for 2012, and am almost ready to talk about part of that. It won't be the same as 2011. Then again, each time I teach it's different anyway.

 

 

 

30 days to Maryland Sheep and Wool

It's time to count days to the Maryland Sheep and Wool Festival.

Here's my major sign of spring:

The Maryland catalog. I love Maryland catalogs. I don't care if they arrive dog-eared from their travels through the postal system, as this one did, because they'll get dog-eared after they're in my hands anyway.

This year's edition . . .

has something new:

I think this is a fundraiser for the festival itself. I'm learning details by the minute: just got an e-mail with more (below). There have been several minor shifts to keep the festival free, including a request for a shipping and handling fee for mailed catalogs in 2012 and the announcement that there will be donation opportunities on the festival grounds. I think the book signing, a first for the event, is another creative way to support the festival and keep it accessible. (Another way to do this is to buy t-shirts, of course.) Note cash and checks; no credit cards.

So that's Sunday.

There's one slight problem:

Signing times are Sunday 10 a.m. to 2 p.m. near the information tent, and the Parade of Breeds is at 12:30 p.m. at the show ring.

Be warned. I am not addicted to alcohol, tobacco, or other drugs. I am addicted to the Parade of Breeds at the Maryland Sheep and Wool Festival. I will be taking my "lunch" break to go see the parade. The show ring, fortunately, is not far from the information tent. I'll take my signing pen with me, but I won't miss that event (which, thanks to the sheep, does not always run precisely on schedule, although the humans get it as close to on-time as they can). I'll be at the signing area near the information tent both before and after the parade, though. 

And stepping back a day to Saturday. . . .

I just learned what's happening on Saturday!

For the past several years, Guido Stein has organized a FiberCrawl "after party" for Saturday night. I've attended a couple of times and had a great time (met some new people and new spindles—first time I saw a Trindle—and won a door prize!—a matched set of Lexie Barnes bags). This year, Storey Publishing is collaborating on the party. It will go from 8 to 11 p.m., and will be held at the Sheraton Columbia hotel. There will be, as there have been, food and drinks. I have heard from reliable sources that there will be air conditioning and chairs (I wasn't there last year, but those who were suggest that I should mention this). Bring your knitting, spinning, or other fiber fun. It's that kind of party.

There will also be, or so they tell me, "some giveaways of the book . . . and your presentation." Which means Carol and I will put together about 10 minutes' worth of back story on how we did the book, likely with pictures. That's a work in progress.

Tickets ($10) are required for the after party. Because Storey is sponsoring the event (thanks, Storey!), all proceeds will benefit Star Gazing Farm, described as "a haven for retired farm animals and wayward goats." Check out some of the specific critters who have found a home at the farm, and the philosophy and activities of the place.

Here's a general web page about the party, with links to tickets. For those who are on Ravelry (membership is free), there is a discussion of the party just starting up.

Hope to see folks at Maryland! I will likely be a little spaced out. I'm really comfortable in small groups, prefer not to be the center of attention, and immediately forget my own name (along with everyone else's) when I'm in a crowd. Forgive me now and we'll all have a great time.

I love the Maryland Sheep and Wool Festival, I get a huge kick out of hanging out with other fiber folk, and . . . it'll be the first time I get to see the book in its finished form, too! And we get to give some copies away at the party! (Of course we'll sign them.)

! ! !

Okay, more Parade of Breeds photos to end this post.

Can you tell I like the Maryland Sheep and Wool Festival? Especially the Parade of Breeds?

Lots of good things have gotten started at Maryland. Like the Save the Sheep project, and, ultimately, this book we're celebrating. What will be next?