The Independent Stitch

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.

Spotlight on four rare breeds of sheep

The November/December 2011 issue of PieceWork magazine has arrived! The issue's focus is wool, and editor Jeane Hutchins and I talked early in the planning process about what I might contribute to it. The result is "On the Edge: How a Handful of People Have Preserved Some Rare, Valuable Sheep and Their Wools," which starts on page 34.

Jeane asked for rare sheep. Then we had to figure out what aspect to focus on. She also was thinking about a related project or projects in addition to an article, and because of PieceWork's readership any hands-on components had to be based on readily available yarn. In other words, we couldn't ask people to start by spinning their own. Materials available by internet were okay—a specification that made the whole endeavor possible, because most people's local stores are unlikely to stock breed-specific, much less rare-breed-specific, yarns.

One thing that has fascinated me in my study of sheep is the pivotal role often played by one or two individuals in a whole breed's survival.

So we came up with the idea of an article about a few breeds of rare sheep

• that are still with us today in large part because of the actions of identifiable individual human beings, and
• whose fiber is available as spun yarn that readers can get their hands on.

Sorting through the possibilities took me a while, and some research on the web to augment what I already knew about yarn suppliers. We ended up with four breeds that fit the criteria we aimed for. In addition,

• two of the breeds originated in the British Isles and two originated in North America (I like that balance), and
• Jeane found four people, each of whom agreed to design an original project using one of the breeds' fiber.

What fun!

And now it's here.

The breeds are Manx Loaghtan and Leicester Longwool (British Isles) and Navajo-Churro and American Tunis (North America). The projects are:

• Manx Loaghtan Boot Socks to Knit, by Ann Budd (with Blacker Yarns Pure Manx Loaghtan, DK weight)
• Leicester Longwool Pillow Cover to Tunisian Crochet, by Carol Huebscher Rhoades (with Row House Farm Leicester Longwool, in two natural colors)
• Navajo-Churro Mittens to Knit, by Alexis Manzanares, working from her grandmother's pattern (with Shepherd's Lamb Certified Organic Churro, blanket, or worsted, weight) (I can't find a web reference for Alexis, but there are a number of links to information on her family's sheep and wool)
• American Tunis Hat to Knit, by Kristi Schueler (with Solitude Wool Tunis, worsted weight)

These are all designs my fingers are itching to knit! What a wonderful way to showcase the fibers. I feel like we've gathered at a party to celebrate the survival of four superb and valuable breeds by using their wools. I'd love to see what other people make with these fibers, whether from these patterns or others.

Meanwhile, let's get some more pictures into this blog. There are super photos in the article, but the ones of the swatches are nicely decorative (i.e., a little small), and since they're my samples I can supplement by providing them at a bigger size here. I might as well add photos of sheep and of locks of wool, for the spinnerly and otherwise curious among us.

All photos not otherwise credited are mine.

Manx Loaghtan

Here's my swatch, worked in Cable and Band pattern from Barbara Walker's Charted Knitting Designs (Pittsville, WI: Schoolhouse Press, 1998, p. 133). The yarn is Manx Loaghtan from Blacker Yarns, Cornwall, England. (On the Blacker Yarns site, the Manx Loaghtan yarn is listed under "Welsh" breeds because there's only one breed from the Isle of Man, which is its own sovereignty—and the yarn would likely be overlooked if it had its own category.)

Manx Loaghtan locks are all brown, although they come in a variety of shades of mid-brown—as you can see in the yarns below the locks. The lefthand yarn was spun from a darker fleece. Manx Loaghtan fleeces often have light-colored tips, from sun-bleaching, although the tips in my experience so far have not been fragile (as sun-bleached tips sometimes are).

On all of the lock photographs, the inked-in line is 4 inches/10cm long.

And here's a robust Manx Loaghtan ram with a gorgeous set of four horns:

Photo © British Wool Marketing Board. Used by permission.

Check out the Navajo-Churro horns below, too.

Leicester Longwool

This next swatch is Diamond and Rib, also from Barbara Walker's Charted Knitting Designs (p. 22), worked in Leicester Longwool singles yarn from Double J Ranch, Oregon City, Oregon. (There are two Double J Ranches in Oregon. The link goes to the right one.)

The high luster, open crimp, and generous length of the locks are typical of the breed. The lock on top is unwashed, and the one on the bottom is clean. Longwools invite a variety of spinning techniques. Lower left is singles, spun for texture, and lower right is a loosely spun and plied two-ply.

And here's a Leicester Longwool sheep, fairly recently shorn: the breed's fleeces get exquisitely long in a fairly short time. They're often shorn twice a year to keep the fiber to a manageable 5- to 6-inch length (12.5 to 15cm).

Photo © British Wool Marketing Board. Used by permission.

Navajo-Churro

Another swatch in singles yarn, this time Navajo-Churro obtained from Gypsy Wools, Boulder, Colorado. Yet another pattern from Barbara Walker's Charted Knitting Designs (I love all of Barbara Walker's treasuries, but this one just might be my favorite): Waterfall (p. 151).

Here are some of the breed's gorgeous natural colors, these grown by Connie Taylor's sheep in southern Colorado:

Navajo-Churro wool combines softness and durability in a unique way. The rare breeds are delightfully distinctive. That's to their benefit, in the realm of genetic variety and delight for us, but it's a negative attribute in an industrial world that prefers its fibers anonymous.

Here's a Navajo-Churro ram: he's got a superior set of four horns, too. Not many breeds of sheep are polycerate, or capable of producing horns in multiples. The fact that we're seeing two such rams on this page is because we're in rare-breed territory. These guys are remarkable even in that realm.

Photo © Tanya Carte and Greg Shore/McKenzie Creek Ranch in California. Used by permission.

American Tunis

Changing books to Hitomi Shida's 250 Japanese Knitting Patterns (Tokyo: Nihon Vogue, 2005), this is pattern #132, worked in American Tunis yarn from Solitude Wool, Round Hill, Virginia.

Tunis locks have a lovely open quality to them (except the tips, which often need a little gentle opening). They spin up into a versatile yarn that works well for color definition and (as you can see above) good body in texture patterns. It's darn sweet.

The lambs are born cinnamon-red, and they lighten up as they mature to a creamy-white color, although they retain the warm tones on their faces and legs.

Photo © SVF Foundation. Used by permission.

In conclusion

Here are locks of the four breeds, all together:

Left to right: Navajo Churro, American Tunis, Leicester Longwool, and Manx Loaghtan.

Aren't they pretty? All the things we can make with these splendid, renewable fibers—!

Check out the new PieceWork. There are a lot of other great articles about wool in it, including Charlotte Booth's exploration of ancient Coptic socks, Lithuanian beaded wrist warmers by Donna Druchunas, a section by Evelyn Clark featuring Icelandic wool, and more. I just need more knitting (and spinning) time.

For more rare breeds (and not-so-rare), there is, of course, The Fleece and Fiber Sourcebook.

Traveling fiber emergency

I've been insanely busy. I'm stealing time for this post.

While driving 3400 miles in August, I also knitted about 18 swatches (more on that later). I also had a traveling fiber emergency. It led, as such things do, to memorable experiences en route. In this case, those experiences involved almost no panic and several unexpected, pleasant interludes.

Just before I left on the trip, I finished writing an article that is scheduled to appear in the November/December 2011 issue of PieceWork magazine. The topic is four rare breeds of sheep. PieceWork's criterion for breeds to be included was that yarn had to be available for people to work with—not just fleece. My criterion—my reason for selecting these breeds and featuring them together—was that there had to be at least one pivotal moment in the breed's history when an individual, or small handful of people, made a crucial difference in its survival. Additionally, I wanted them to demonstrate a variety of types of wools.

The breeds that fitted all those requirements?

• Leicester Longwool
• Manx Loaghtan
• Navajo Churro
• American Tunis

As a bonus, I liked the symmetry of two "Old World" breeds (Leicester Longwool and Manx Loaghtan) and two "New World" breeds (Navajo Churro and American Tunis). I wrote the main text and consulted with PieceWork on where people could locate yarn. We chatted together about designers who could develop projects using the breeds' wool. Fun! I love collaborations.

I thought I was done with my part. (When have I thought that before?)

At approximately mile 1239.8 of my trip, I connected to the internet through one or another of the many wireless networks that kept me marginally up-to-date and found the following e-mail:

You noted before that you could provide photos of locks of clean fiber and perhaps small swatches of knitting. Are you still able to provide these images? . . .

If we can have any other photography—or swatches to shoot here, by 8/25, that would be fabulous. Our photoshoot is . . . on 8/26.

Those dates were soon enough after my intended return home that I needed to come up with solutions while traveling. I checked the hard drive of my laptop. I FOUND and sent photographs of:

• Leicester Longwool locks: yes
• Leicester Longwool swatch: NO
• Manx Loaghtan locks: yes
• Manx Loaghtan swatch: yes
• Navajo Churro locks: yes
• Navajo Churro swatch: NO, but I happened to have a ball of yarn with me
• American Tunis locks: NO
• American Tunis swatch: yes

I sent along the images that already existed. The American Tunis lock could be dealt with as soon as I got home. I could knit a Navajo Churro swatch during my trip, using the yarn in my portable project box.

The Leicester Longwool necessitated a creative solution, one that I could implement while transient. Leicester Longwools are, for the most part, found in the British Isles and the eastern United States, but . . . there might be a yarn shop in Oregon or Washington that might carry breed-specific yarns. . . . I knew it was a long shot.

But I'm part of an online group that has a disproportionate number of folks from the Pacific Northwest, and they're all into fiber. With my intermittent access to the internet, I sent out an SOS:

I'm traveling . . . and it turns out I need some Leicester Longwool. . . . I have a spindle with me, but it would be great if I could find spun yarn, because . . . well, it'll be faster, and for this audience, commercially spun is ideal.

I'm near Wenatchee, WA. . . . I'll be driving west on route 2 to Seattle. . . . Then south on I-5 . . . [to] southern OR . . . (not much time for straying from the path, although I'll need short breaks . . . I know that Woodland Woolworks is no longer available). Mid-next-week I'll be heading back east, possibly via . . . Crater Lake . . . then I-90 through Wyoming.

Anybody know of sources along this path? ONE SKEIN (or equivalent fiber) of Leicester Longwool will suffice.

Twenty minutes after my e-mail went out, one friend, Leila Wice, offered to forward the message to Portland-area spinners. Thirty-six minutes after my inquiry was sent, Janel Laidman responded with this:

I have some leicester longwool fiber in my stash and could spin you enough for a swatch in a pinch, however I also found this resource for commercial yarn . . . not far off the I-5.

If that doesn't work, I'm . . . also not far off the I-5 and would be happy to spin.  Let me know if either of these options helps...

YES!

Two and a half hours after Janel's e-mail arrived, I had arranged to meet a shepherd—one who breeds Leicester Longwools in the Pacific Northwest—at a freeway exit and get some yarn that she'd had millspun, my choice of singles or two-ply (BOTH). I said I might need some fleeces as well, if she had any that would suit my purposes. She did. (These fleeces are for a class I'll be teaching next spring.)

I stopped a little farther down the road to show Janel what she'd facilitated (two skeins and three fleeces).

The wool was so pretty that Janel took photos of it, too.

And I knitted swatches on my way east (although not while driving, so progress was slow but steady).

Soon after I got home, I opened my e-mail to find this message from PieceWork:

I hope you’ve returned from your travels safely and that you had a great time.

I’m following up with you about the possible lock and swatch that we still need a photo of—either your photo or the items themselves for our photoshoot Friday in Ft. Collins. Did anyone respond to your [appeal] for yarn?

My response:

Funny you should ask! I got the second new swatch finished last night, and those two missing ones (Leicester Longwool and Navajo Churro) got washed/blocked last night. I checked them this morning to see if they were dry, and they're close enough to be photographed this afternoon. I'll also pull the American Tunis and get a lock photo--plus I was thinking I'd set up a single photo with all four breeds' locks in it, to give you an alternative.

So I did.

Thanks, Janel!

I suspect that Janel may still be smiling about all this. I definitely am!

A pilgrimage to see the Two Grey Hills/Toadlena weavings

On March 15, Penny Tschantz dropped a couple of comments on my January 17 post about recording the rare-breeds DVD set for Interweave. In one, she told me about a book, Dreaming of Sheep in Navajo Country by Marsha Weisiger. I now have a copy, although I haven't had time to start reading it. In another, she mentioned an exhibit of Two Grey Hills/Toadlena-style Navajo weavings that has been installed at the Wheelwright Museum in Santa Fe but is closing April 17.

It's amazing that this exhibit has been up for most of a year (since May 15, 2010) and I hadn't heard about it. That just goes to show how intense the book project has been. (Oh, yeah, I remember May 2010. And the months following. Sort of.) I guess I can forgive myself for having missed the news about the textile installation. And thank Penny for letting me know in time to make a quick, not altogether responsible, trip! (Not responsible because the undone work piled up here is deep and needs all the shoveling time I can give it.)

Last night I got back from a four-day trip that involved 1302 miles of driving (really? that's what the odometer says) and two days of visiting the Wheelwright. My brain got full both days. I had thought I'd go to the Wheelwright one day, and maybe see something else the other day. Nope. Had to go back and spend more time with the textiles.

What I can't show here is the weavings themselves. No photos permitted in the exhibit, and, alas, no catalog. I can talk about the trip, and give some hints about the rugs and tapestries.

First, Two Grey Hills/Toadlena weavings come from a certain part of the Navajo Nation, in its eastern portion. They emphasize the use of handspun yarn in natural colors, much of which comes from Navajo Churro sheep. Within an exquisite textile tradition, they are some of the most extraordinary works. They are associated with two trading posts, the Two Grey Hills Trading Post (about ten miles off US highway 666) and the Toadlena Trading Post, which is about six miles farther toward the Chuska Mountains. You can see photos of Two Grey Hills-style weavings on both posts' sites.

I've been fortunate to have visited both trading posts, more than once, and have seen work by some of the weavers featured at the Wheelwright. I even had the incredible opportunity to accompany trader Mark Winter of Toadlena on visits where I met two of the weavers and saw their work in progress. These were top-of-the-heap life experiences.

Second, I've woven a Navajo-style textile. A fairly long time ago, using information provided by Noel Bennett that reflects the teachings she received from Tiana Bighorse, I made an upright, Navajo-style loom, warped it, and beat the weft into place. Some time I will write more about that experience. Mine is not, of course, in any way a Navajo textile: and as always when I work to learn with my hands the ways of traditions that are not a direct part of my own heritage, I designed my rug (it's a rug, not a tapestry) in ways that make it clear that it's neither a copy of a Navajo work nor an attempt to imitate one directly. The colors are different and the ways my patterning goes together are different. No one would mistake my work for a "real" Navajo textile, even though I wove it on the appropriate type of loom; it has four selvedges; and so on. By making it, I learned the techniques and developed an intimate understanding of the interplay of work and creativity in the creation of masterpieces like those that the Navajo weavers produce.

Third . . . I just had to go to Santa Fe. Even though the trip made no rational sense. I remembered my experiences from my travels within the Navajo Nation in the mid-1990s. I thought about timing. I calculated fuel costs. I researched inexpensive lodging, and the presence of a hostel began to bring the trip into focus. Then my friend Susan Tweit forwarded me a coupon that allowed me to book a stay at the Sage Inn for just a bit more than the hostel would have cost and with a superb location. The Wheelwright is open both Sunday afternoons and (very unusual for a museum) on Mondays. I cleared a space from a Saturday morning through a Tuesday.

Here's part of the sunset on the drive down:

It's only appropriate that the place where I stayed was enhanced by relatively very simple, yet still warming, Navajo (rug) and at least Navajo-influenced (pillows) textiles.

There was even room for yoga, which might have been iffy at the hostel.

(My yoga strap dates from about the same era as my Navajo-style rug, which my mother now owns. The strap is cardwoven, from 5/2 perle cotton.)

While I was planning the trip, I located a wonderful bikeways map of Santa Fe in PDF form. Its only drawbacks were that it is LARGE and the color is absolutely essential to using it. My printer handles 8.5x11 sheets of paper and prints in black and white. I wrote an e-mail note to "Project Administrator, Bicycle and Trails Committee," asking how I might be able to get my hands on a printed copy of the map.

The tricky part, of course, was that I would be arriving in Santa Fe about 8 p.m. on a Saturday night, and would want to bike Sunday morning, well before the museum opened for the afternoon. I learned that the map is available at bike shops, but much web-surfing revealed to me that almost all of Santa Fe's bike emporia are closed on Sundays. Robert Siqueiros, Projects Administrator of the Engineering Division of the Public Works Department, came to my rescue and helped me connect with the right map at the right time. Because of his help, my car rested at the motel from the time I checked in to the time I checked out.

I could not have done the riding (or car-resting) without the help of the map. It got battered because I kept having to pull it out of my back pocket and unfold it to read it under what were pretty windy conditions.

I got lost a number of times, but because of the map I got found again quickly enough and could continue on my way, whether I was just exploring or whether I had a destination, like the museum, the entrance to which looks like this if you bike up Camino Lejo just past Corrales:

The museum itself isn't visible in that photo. Here's how I knew I had reached my destination:

Open at 1 on Sundays. I arrived at 1:03, without really intending to . . . I'd taken the long route, simply setting out on an exploration and still with half an idea that I was going to drive the car to Museum Hill, because it is uphill, and I wasn't sure how I'd deal with the wind, the extra 2,000+ feet of altitude, and the wrong turns I took on the trails ("Bikeway ends" and "No access except by government employees" required backtracking). Yet one mile after another, I kept going, and then . . . I was there! At exactly the optimal time!

The docent who was serving as gallery host, Judith Beery, is knowledgeable and enthusiastic, and we had a great conversation. Then I spent two and a half hours in the exhibit before I needed to take a break.

There are 37 textiles (I counted on Monday; Sunday I was just too enchanted to be analytical), representing 31 weavers, including:

• Bessie Manygoats (c. 1900-1964), 4 weavings
• Daisy Taugelchee (1911-1990), 3 weavings
• Clara Sherman (1914-2010), 2 weavings and a video of her spinning process

And one each:

• unknown (weaving from about 1910)
• unknown (weaving from about 1910, a second one)
• unknown (weaving from about 1950)
• Blind Man's Wife (? - 1914)
• Mrs. Police Boy (1865-1965)
• Frank Gould (? - 1944)
• Mary Yanabah Curley (1877-1977)
• Yellow Moustache's Wife (c. 1885 - c. 1955)
• Esther Silentman (1903-1991)
• Susie Tom (1903-1985)
• Helena Taugelchee Nez Begay (1904-1965)
• Katherine Nathaniel (no dates; weaving c. 1950)
• Yazzie Blackhorse (1913-1965)
• Cora Curley (b. 1916)
• Elizabeth Billie (b. 1920)
• Rose Mike (b. 1925)
• Virginia Deal (b. 1926)
• Mary Ann Foster (b. 1926)
• Evelyn George (b. 1928)
• Julia Jumbo (1928-2007)
• Rose Curley (b. 1929)
• Margaret Yazzie (b. 1929)
• Elizabeth Mute (b. 1932 or 1933)
• Salina Dale (b. 1935)
• Emma Benally (b. 1938)
• Mary Louise Gould (b. 1935)
• Barbara Ornelas (b. 1954)
• Angeline Silentman (b. 1955)

I have listed the weavers in the "one each" group not in the order their work was presented in the exhibit, but according to recorded or approximate birth dates. I took down their names and dates when I went back on Monday.

I could have spent many more hours examining these works of art, which were hung and lit in ways that made them glow like stained glass.

With the time I had, I looked closely at the weaving techniques, and admired the absolute mastery and individually inventive ways of approaching the geometry of the loom: the right-angled intersection of warps and wefts, and each weaver's intensive discovery of how to work with that geometry, doing Olympic-level backflips and perfect landings with pattern elements, and in some cases to also create curvilinear forms that adroitly escape the grid.

And I explored the use of color, mostly the natural sheep colors (with only occasional, very small, accents of red or turquoise). Some weavers chose to blend the colors completely, smoothing out any variations within particular color areas. Others, of equal technical skill, chose to blend more roughly, but then used the varying shades in ways that create an exceptionally lively quality. The approaches were equally breathtaking.

Of course, I also looked intently at the quality of the wool and the spinning. Some of the yarns, and I think this is characteristic of Navajo Churro, have a silk-like shine and seem to glow. I know the resulting yarns are durable as well as beautiful. The sheep produce an exceptional type of fiber, and the weavers whose work is on display at the Wheelwright have worked over generations, as a lineage and as individuals, to create an evolving and inspiring body of work that depends on, and makes the most of, that material.

I sat on the floor and looked and looked.

On Monday morning, I went back again and spent more time with a handful of rugs, sketching motifs to remind myself of some of the details. I had to leave far too soon, having done only a scrap of the observing and note-taking and sketching that I wanted to do, after having been in the presence of these 37 works for a total of four and a half hours. Not nearly enough to be "done" with seeing them, but as much as I could physically handle in the available time and plenty to reward the decision to get to Santa Fe while the exhibit was accessible to me.

Outside the museum's entry is this sculpture, "Heading Home" by Allen C. Houser.

Here's how I felt about the trip (one of a long series of painted walls seen from the the multiuse path as I rode my bike):

And here's one of my favorite buildings on the highways I took back north:

It's located in La Jara, Colorado, between Antonito and Alamosa.

Thanks, Penny. It was an absolutely amazing trip. And I never would have known to take it if you hadn't told me. Thanks, Susan, for the Sage Inn. It's right across from the bike path, next door to a healthy grocery store, and a few blocks from Body, where I ate my only Santa Fe restaurant meal, and a fine (and reasonably priced) choice it was.

Wow.

Now I need to deal with some of that piled-up work. It waited for me (and multiplied a bit while I wasn't looking).

Pondering that exhibit in Santa Fe. SO tempted.

Typepad has gotten a little too efficient. I thought I was posting a response to a comment, and the system made it a new post, which I can't figure out how to delete. However, I can figure out how to expand what I said, so it makes sense without its original context.

So what I wrote was this: "Pondering that exhibit in Santa Fe. SO tempted. Turns out I need to be at a meeting that's about a third of the way there, and that there *is* a hostel in Santa Fe. It might actually work."

In a series of comments on a previous post, a kind reader told me that there is an exhibit of Toadlena and Two Grey Hills weaving (a specific style of Navajo tapestry and rug weaving) at the Wheelwright Museum in Santa Fe. The exhibit is up through April 17, which is not a whole lot longer. I have likely seen some of the weavings (I've definitely seen the work of a number of the weavers being featured), although it's been more than a decade, so there are probably new pieces. I'd need to check my records, but I think I was in the area in 1997 and 1998. Some of the work that I saw on looms when I visited that part of the Navajo Nation may be in the show. One tapestry in particular that I saw being woven was so exquisite that it seared a permanent image on my brain cells. How wonderful it would be to see those pieces, if they happen to be there, as well as what may be some "old friends" that I saw before—likely, because the sources of the work in the show are the same as the sources of what I saw when I was at Toadlena and Two Grey Hills trading posts.

Going to Santa Fe to see a museum exhibit is not something I would normally do. Yet it's possible, and this is not just any exhibit. The weavers from that area produce exquisite pieces, and are known for using natural-colored Navajo Churro wool.

Yes, I do have a meeting that requires me to do a good chunk of the drive toward Santa Fe. And yes, there is a hostel in Santa Fe that looks clean and is definitely reasonably priced. Weather permitting on the appropriate days, it might actually be possible. . . .

Back to basics: Navajo-Churro fleece, raw and gorgeous

There's something exquisitely elemental about raw fleece of any breed, and there's special joy for me in Navajo-Churro, a rare breed that's most at home in the southwestern United States. On Saturday I began to get acquainted with a few samples that have arrived here as part of one of the Big Projects I'm working on:

Although I now live in the Southwest, I've been aware of the situation of these sheep since 1985, when I lived in New England. I first learned of them when I was sitting in a barebones office in West Hartford, Connecticut, as the new and on-the-spot editor of Shuttle Spindle & Dyepot, reading a communication from Lyle McNeal. In the past 23 years, I have had a number of opportunities to explore their history and situation through library and internet research, talking with quite a few people, and some travel. Also, of course, a bit of spinning.

The wool in the photo was grown by animals under the care of Connie Taylor, registrar and recorder of the Navajo-Churro Sheep Association, in Hoehne, Colorado, not far from the New Mexico border. (For those who can get to New Mexico: The Taos Wool Festival is next weekend, October 4th and 5th. I wish I could be there. If you can go, tell me stories after you get back. Aside: That's a leaf on the white fleece. It looks fuzzy in the web-quality photo.)

The progenitors of the Navajo-Churro arrived in North America with Spanish explorers in the 1500s. These weren't the fancy Merinos but the sturdier, more common sheep. Between the sixteenth century and the late twentieth, the history of these animals and their connection to the cultures of the Southwest was been marked by significant heights of artistry and sometimes, as in the government-instigated Long Walk of 1865 and stock reduction of the 1930s, tragedy. By the 1970s, almost none of these sheep were left.

What a loss that would have been. Navajo-Churros are uniquely adapted in many ways to a harsh climate with little water or vegetation. They are closely entwined with the Hispanic, Pueblo, and Navajo peoples of the area. They produce a versatile, durable wool that comes in a wide array of natural colors.

Fortunately, a few visionaries working hard for many years have pulled the breed back from the edge of extinction and re-established it in its natural and cultural niches. There are Navajo-Churro flocks now outside the Southwest as well; having some geographic diversity of genetic resources provides a safety net for their long-term survival.

There's lots more to say about Navajo-Churros. For the moment, though, I'd just like to appreciate their fiber . . . although I'll do so with some details.

As usual when you have such a spread of colors in a breed of landrace origins (one that is adapted to a particular geographic niche, instead of having been bred for consistency), the individual fleeces have different characteristics, all within a range that becomes familiar over the years as you see wool from a variety of animals. Among all of the Navajo-Churro fleeces I've seen, there's been more or less double-coatedness. The most remarkably single-coated was in the back room of a trading post on the Navajo Nation. It was being reserved for local weavers, but we were allowed to admire it. Some of the Navajo-Churro wool I've seen from outside the Southwest has carried much more grease, perhaps from the change in climate or shifts in husbandry practices (especially, I'd guess, feeding).

Stepping out on a personal limb here, I'll say that Connie's wool seems to me to epitomize the unique character of the breed as a whole. (I'm not an expert on any specific breed, but I've seen a lot of wool in my life.)

Here are locks from each of those four samples. The gray locks are obviously longest and the white are shortest. Yet all of the locks have similar "personalities," if I can go so far as to use that word. Which, of course, I just did.

One of the things I love about wool—especially in some breeds, like Navajo-Churro—is that not only each fleece but each lock is distinctive. Here's a closer view of one lock from each of the selections above. I think it's easy to identify which lock I selected from each group.

And some people think all sheep look alike, and all wool is the same as other wool. [Walks off shaking head in amazement.]

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Yes, I'm avoiding the computer. Somewhat. I'm about to go back at it.