The Independent Stitch

Fleece and Fiber Sourcebook numbers, part 2 - Romney

My previous post laid out the background and my philosophy for presenting the numbers describing fiber qualities in The Fleece & Fiber Sourcebook. As my first example, I used a breed that was relatively simple, because it's modern and part of its definition involves very specific wool qualities: Cormo.

Although the other breeds I'm going to talk about were significantly more complicated to come up with numbers for, I was able to lay out all of the basic issues with the Cormo (which was not, of course, as straightforward as it "should" have been). So let's look at another breed's scenario. . . .

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Example 2:

Romney

The Romney is a breed with a long history and a lot of variation. It originated, and obtained its name, in southeastern England. However, it's a successful type of sheep for both wool and meat growing and has been exported around the world. In each locale, breeders have selected for different qualities of fiber. In addition, Romney genetics include the possibility of natural colors. For large-scale industrial production, anything other than pure white wool isn't desirable, but handspinners treasure the lovely colors.

So: what types of numbers could I use to describe the Romney's wool?

As for the Cormo, the first thing I did was simply gather a bunch of data from as many sources as I could find and put the information all in one place:

 

 

As before, I sorted by geographic location, when I could tell what that was. Noticeably absent from this list is the Romney Sheep Breeders' Society in the British Isles. When I reviewed its website, there were only subjective descriptions of wool quality (although it did mention "heavy fleeces of 4 to 5kg").

There's quite a lot of overlapping data: Fournier & Fournier's Romney Marsh, The Sheep Trust (UK), and the British Coloured Sheep Breeders Association have nearly identical information. Fournier & Fournier have separate data for the New Zealand version of the breed.

Then I got out my pencil and started sketching relationships.

 

 

As the data began to come into focus for me, I started over on another sheet of paper and sketched in approximate micron-count spans for the sources that only offered Bradford or USDA numbers:

 

 

Factors I was watching for as I evaluated sources were (1) geography, (2) color (if specified), (3) date of source (since breeding goals shift with time as well as location), and (4) overall reliability of the source—not necessarily in that order!

While there's definitely overlap, New Zealand Romneys look like they have fiber on the sturdier end, and the Americans are breeding for more fineness. Fleece weights were a bit scattered.

 

White Romney samples, with two-ply yarn

In the summaries, I wanted to indicate the potential for variation by region. Here's what I came up with for Romney:

• Staple lengths: 4 to 8 inches (10 to 20 cm)
• Fiber diameters:
  North America: 29 to 36 microns (spinning counts listed at 44s to 50s, but micron counts suggest 44s to 54s)
  New Zealand: 33 to 37 microns (spinning counts listed at 44s to 52s, but micron counts suggest 40s to 46s)
  British Isles: 30 to 35 microns (spinning counts listed at 46s to 54s, but micron counts suggest 44s to 50s)
• Fleece weights: 8 to 12 pounds (or more) (3.5 to 5.5kg)

For the Cormo I gave the USDA or Bradford grades less weight, because the breed is new and part of its definition involves fleece quality and consistency criteria based on micron-count data. For the Romney, the breed's long history suggests giving the Bradford grades a bigger say in the compiled description.

Overall, wool classification is moving toward the use of more objective—i.e., micron count—measurement systems. For a number of breeds, the contemporary preference for fine wools is pushing the breeders to select in favor of the "skinny" end of the spectrum. In selecting numbers to represent the Romney, what I did was attempt to embody the effects of these forces as I saw them appearing in the data I collected.

For some breeds (although this wasn't obvious in the Romney), I observed differences in quality designations between white and colored wools. That may be because the genes that produce color in those breeds act in combination with genes that result in slightly coarser fiber, or because the breeders who are going for color like sturdier wool, or for other reasons. There's a lot we humans haven't figured out yet about sheep.

 

Gray Romney sample with carded rolags

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In some cases, the metric/imperial conversions I'm giving here are not identical to those printed in the book. My numbers are more rounded-off, since the things we're measuring aren't manufactured to precise dimensions and thinking about them in ballpark numbers is more practical. Copyeditors, of which I was one for years, sometimes get more precise in their attention to details than the material warrants. For example, for Romney fleece weights, the book says "8–12 (or more) pounds (3.6–5.4 or more kg)." I'd go with "3.5 to 5.5kg." It's as good an approximation in the metric universe as "8 to 12 pounds" is in the imperial one. It's also easy to remember.

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Charcoal Romney sample with "bird's nests" of hand-combed top.

Whatever its numbers, Romney is a versatile wool. It's easy for beginning spinners to manage. It also will accommodate any preparation or spinning approach more experienced hands may want to try with it.

Just as a point of curiosity, although all three of the samples shown here have well-defined, bold crimp, as is typical of Romney, each has a different type of crimp. Crimp patterns are fascinating! And way beyond what we can consider here and now.

How I came up with the numbers I used in The Fleece & Fiber Sourcebook, part 1

I've been promising, or threatening, to write a post about how I came up with the numbers used to describe the fibers in The Fleece & Fiber Sourcebook—you know, the parts in the boxes, where the text talks about fiber diameters, staple lengths, fleece weights, and the like.

The short answer is that . . . well, there isn't a short answer. The shortest is that I didn't just copy numbers from somewhere else. Instead, I did research, drew on almost forty years of experience looking at and handling wool, and came up with numbers that I thought would best represent what a fiber person (for example, me) could expect to find.

Two decisions, one philosophical and one practical, set the foundation for my work with the numbers.

Philosophically, I wanted the data we provided to reflect what fiber folk were likely to hold in their hands: in other words, to give a reasonable ballpark idea of the range of fibers an animal, or breed, is probably growing.

From the practical perspective, I wanted a consistent approach to underlie all the sets of numbers.

Co-author Carol Ekarius and I had already spent months deciding what would be on our list of animals to cover.

The first thought that arises for anyone engaged in such a quest is to use the numbers published by breed associations. Yet those aren't available for all breeds and not all types of animals have breed associations. In addition, those numbers may reflect a particular group of people's ideal for judging animals in the show ring, not what's showing up on the shearing floor.

What comes next is wondering how people who have written down numbers before have decided what to use—but that lasts only a moment, because in almost all cases the back stories can't be discovered. A reasonable approach would be to choose an ostensibly reliable source and copy its numbers. I've done this in the past, as a result of personal curiosity and for my own notebooks, and it takes a long time.

Yet this time I was responsible to more than my personal curiosity—or, rather, to new levels of that curiosity as well as to a potential community of fellow fiber-users. So I moved to a new level that involved gathering as many numbers as possible for each type of fiber from a wide variety of sources, and then taking a look at them to see if I could discern patterns or irregularities.

To demonstrate my process, I'm going to use four sheep breeds that presented radically different problems in deciding what numbers to use:

• a very consistent breed (Cormo)
• a breed with a lot of variety (Romney)*
• two breeds with almost no data (Santa Cruz and Hog Island)

 

* If I'm feeling brave when I write up the "a lot of variety" section, I'll mention the Cheviots again. . . . Does it indicate anything that, when I went to link to a blog post about the Cheviots, I could remember the EXACT MONTH AND YEAR when I had a serious tussle with their identities and data? I have a good memory, but for things like "when did I write that specific post?" I generally need to refer to my notes. Not in this case.

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The numbers part of writing The Fleece & Fiber Sourcebook operated as a separate sub-project and had its own dedicated working spaces, including a physical folder:

It was about 1.5 inches (4 cm) thick. Inside were sections with pockets:

It also willingly held a few extra manila envelopes of papers.

I happened across this organizer while I was buying yet another dozen cardboard file boxes to hold fiber samples. I bought it on a whim, feeling extravagant because I had no precisely defined use for it. It became a reliable sidekick. Although the data it held was partnered with a lot of computer files, my thinking processes took place with the help of the papers it protected.

As I mentioned, I began by simply gathering data presented by other people. I looked at the Oklahoma State University site and at Wikipedia, of course, in part because many fibers are listed and it's nice to start a search with success (or to be warned that the digging will need to be deep). It was interesting to discover later what the sources of these sites' data were—when I located matching material elsewhere that appeared to predate the compilations. I was able to perceive this cross-linking between sources (print and web) from time to time throughout my research, and it helped me evaluate and weight my results.

Then I consulted as many breed and trade associations as I could locate, performed multiple web searches, and prowled through a couple of shelves full of books. Repeatedly.

When I had exhausted at least myself, if not the options (although I worked to plumb those as deeply as I could), I assembled in a spreadsheet the data I had found for each type of animal or breed of sheep.

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Example 1:

Cormo

Cormo is a relatively modern sheep breed developed with strictly defined performance standards, including for the quality of the wool. Individual animals that don't meet those requirements are culled. You'd think I could have almost instantaneously processed this breed through the numbers-cycle. While it was easy relative to other fibers, it shows that none of my decisions worked by cut-and- paste.

Sometimes I obtained information in imperial designations, sometimes metric, sometimes the Bradford or USDA numbers. (These two systems use the same notation system, although they are not completely interchangeable.) I started by putting whatever information I had on one sheet of paper (well, sometimes, as for the Romney, two sheets of paper).

Here's my Cormo list, in its neatly presented spreadsheet form:

Because I ended up looking for regional variations, I coded the column just to the right of my source indicators for the potential geographic bias of the data, if I could perceive one. (1-US, 2-UK, 3-NZ, 4-AU.) If I wasn't sure, I left the column blank. (Fournier & Fournier sometimes got coded as 3-NZ—when the data matched what I found in a New Zealand breeders' association. Sometimes I could tell where Wikipedia's information had been drawn from. In this case, the Oklahoma site referred specifically to Australian sources.)

While Cormo was one of the simplest breeds to come to conclusions about, you'll note discrepancies in the collected numbers.

In staple length, the two sources I found said 2.5 to 4 inches OR 4 to 5 inches. Well, 4 inches seemed like a safe place to land, but there will always be some variety in a natural item like wool. I knew from experience that not every Cormo fleece is exactly 4 inches long.

Staple length can be defined either as "how much wool can these sheep grow in a year?" or as "how long was the wool that the shearer clipped off?" They're not the same. Which were people talking about?

Suspending judgment temporarily, I simply moved to other parts of the summary to see what I could learn.

In fiber diameter, I found additional intriguing oddities. Initially, the numbers looked pretty consistent at 17 to 23 microns, with 21 to 23 microns coming from In Sheep's Clothing (Fournier & Fournier), possibly a reflection of the authors' New Zealand origins. (The breed developed in Australia, but there might be more focused goals among New Zealand breeders. Or not. This was part of my discovery path.)

Turning to ASI, which is the American Sheep Industry Association, I found an even more arresting set of numbers. These were at cross-purposes to each other. This source specified both 17 to 23 microns AND 46s to 56s USDA grades. The micron equivalents of USDA 46s to 56s are 26.4 to 32.7. The site did helpfully specify that it was looking at American Cormo, which might mean it was recording information on a regional variation, even though with this breed the standards appeared to be both strict and internationally consistent.

Fournier & Fournier, with their 21 to 23 microns, in addition specified 64s to 58s. They didn't say whether this was Bradford or USDA, but in either case a ballpark equivalency would be 21 to 27 microns. The grades corresponding to 21 to 23 microns would instead be roughly 64s to 62s, a much narrower span.

I'm skipping lightly here over a discussion of how Bradford numbers differ from USDA grades. We did talk about that in the book. By the way, I constructed the chart comparing fiber counts and USDA grades that appears on pages 12 and 13 of The Fleece & Fiber Sourcebook to help myself keep track of all this stuff.

Now, without having resolved anything, I turned to fleece weights. As an initial observation, rams and ewes tend to produce different amounts; rams grow heavier fleeces. Yet a lot more ewes are kept and shorn, so sometimes fleece-weight numbers ignore the rams. Like staple lengths, fleece weights are subject to a lot of interpretation, because the parameters aren't specified. In addition to "ram or ewe?" there's "a full year's maximum growth?" and "skirted, or not?"

The general assumption is that a fleece weight will be grease, not clean; a full year's growth; from a ewe; probably lightly skirted.

But you never know whether that is the case for a particular set of numbers unless it's spelled out.

Where my chart says (e), that means the source specified that this was the weight of ewes' fleeces. (Similarly, some of my charts have both (r) and (e) measurements.)

The Cormo Sheep Conservation Registry liked 12 pounds as a nice, single number, presumably an average. Fournier and Fournier were in the same vicinity, with 9 to 12 pounds. ASI thought fleeces from this breed would be a good deal lighter, 5 to 8 pounds, but they also specified that they were talking about ewes.

When I did my research on Cormos, I did not find micron counts or fleece weights on the Cormo Sheep Conservation Registry website, which is now listing 21 to 23 microns and 5.5 to 12 pounds.

Okay, what to do with all these flying numbers?

At this point, I began to draw pictures.

When I first felt backed into one of these corners, I was on a retreat in Salida, Colorado. This was fortunate, because my retreat times gave me opportunities to stick with one thorny issue or another until I had resolved it, something that wasn't anywhere near as easy when I was home and juggling writing tasks with regular duties and interruptions.

I remember the morning I stared at a sheet of statistics that were not coalescing. I felt compelled to confront the problem with a pencil and some graph paper. I took a brain-clearing walk to the office supplies store and splurged on a spatious pad of quadrille paper, 11 x 17 inches of open territory on each sheet. Back at the cottage, I wrote reference numbers across the long side of one sheet and then sketched where all my different sources thought a particular breed's wool should be (I may have started with the Romneys).

This turned out to be a breakthrough. During my retreat time, I hand-wrote a number of these sheets and refined my system. When I got back to my home computer (and its printer), I made up an Illustrator file with the key across the top and lots of guidelines, like my quadrille paper, in the body of my form. I printed out blanks and used them the same way that I had the big sheets. With pencil. These got tucked into my blue pocket file, either alphabetically by breed or, when I was looking for patterns in particular groups, in clusters by family or fiber type.

The top row of numbers represents micron counts, in crisp, even numbers. Next comes the Bradford scale, and below that the micron counts broken into fragments (with standard deviations) assigned to Bradford-like numbers when the USDA grades were established. Below that, there are the traditional fine/medium/coarse/very coarse designations, and the bottom row relates all the other measurement methods to the old blood system.

What I ended up with for Cormo, as my final numbers to go in the book's box of data:

• Staple lengths: 3.25 to 5 inches
• Fiber diameters: 17 to 23 microns (in the realm of spinning counts 62s to 80s)
• Fleece weights: 5 to 12 pounds

I'm sure some Cormo fleeces are as short as 2.5 inches, but the wonkiness in the ASI wool grades made me mistrust that low end. Of the Cormo wool I've seen, the 4- to 5-inch range seems typical, although some has been shorter.

It seems clear that 21 to 23 microns is where the breeders would like the wool to be. It also seems likely that some may be as fine as 17 microns.

Because of the difficulty of confirming Bradford versus USDA throughout the entire inquiry, and because many people are familiar with those methods of describing fiber diameters, we supplemented the micron counts for fiber diameter with what we called spinning counts, meant to communicate in terms similar to those of the two closely related older systems.

For this breed, one developed at a time when micrometer measurements were coming into fashion and one that is defined in part in terms of the micron counts of its wool growth, I gave more weight to the ranges in microns than to the USDA-Bradford-style numbers that were causing problems. In order to get our "spinning counts," I translated from the micron measurements, coming up with 62s for the 23-micron end of the range and 80s for the 17-micron end. It seems pretty clear that most of the wool will be 21 to 23 microns, or 64s to 62s, but we couldn't write a whole essay like this about every breed.

I settled on a range of 5 to 12 pounds to take into account the span from what was probably a light ewe fleece to what was likely a heavy ram fleece.

Wool is a natural, not manufactured, material. It will always have variability—more than anyone coming newly to the topic of studying it can begin to imagine. Getting more precise numbers would require a dedicated research project for each breed (with an extensive budget for communication with breeders, likely including travel, as well as sampling and analysis). The end results would not serve our intended purpose any better than what I'd done.

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Having wrestled a clutter of numbers to a ground of my own defining, I would let myself spin some samples, as a reminder of what it was all about: a person, at a wheel, with some fiber, enjoying the process of making yarn.

And that's enough for one day. I'll continue later.

Spinning photo taken on a writing/research/spinning retreat in the mountains of Colorado, March 2009. Photo by writing friend Judy Fort Brenneman.

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Information and new sources continue to appear. Here are a couple of items that would have fed into my research, except that they appeared after I had to call it quits and give the manuscript to the publisher. (We tweaked until the last minute, but couldn't continue the fundamental heavy lifting for that long.) First there's an article with great quotes from Ian Downie, who developed the Cormo breed. Second, a new registry was established in 2009, also too late for inclusion.

The new Cormo Breeders Coalition has this to say about the wool: "Sample from mid-side 17–23 micron. Consistent wool with 90% of wool within a two micron range. Staple length 3.5” to 5.5”. Dense soft wool. Fleece weight mature ewe 5–8 lbs." Add this set of numbers to my list.

There's always more to be discovered! Sometimes those discoveries will result in corrections to previous conclusions. In this case, I read that and said, "So far, so good for my conclusions on that breed."

Scrivener and the Fleece & Fiber Sourcebook

—> Long post warning

Before I launch into a fairly technical discussion, I want to mention one of the things that makes it all worthwhile. This week's Spinning Daily newsletter shows what Betsy Alspach did following the SOAR workshop that she took with me this past October. Thanks to Betsy for continuing her enjoyment of the fibers we played with; for making her magic skein; and for sharing it and the story. Click the image to read the whole article online.

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The nitty-gritty

I've been researching and exploring new software solutions. As I do so, I would like to shine a spotlight on a piece of software that I came across by accident, as a result of a series of computer disasters. I treasure it. It is, and will continue to be, key to my work.

When I began research for The Fleece & Fiber Sourcebook, I employed PCs running Windows XP and, the primary machine for that project, a laptop running Linux. I organized my research in traditional computer folders. The method was cumbersome, but familiar. I did a lot of tedious keyboard work—for example, making notes from websites—while remembering, and being glad to be past, the days of writing longhand on index cards.

About that time, the PCs started not playing nicely and I lost about two years' worth of income-producing work: not because my hard drive crashed or my files were lost, but because all my time (and a lot of money, hiring consultants) was spent trying to get the PCs to let me get something accomplished other than talking to tech support.

Cutting to the chase, after waiting far longer than I should have (because although the solution cost a lot, so did the troubleshooting), I ditched all but one of the PCs, bought a couple of Macs, and . . . discovered

I like Scrivener so well that even though time now is short, I opened up Illustrator and played with some type in a garish display of enthusiasm. (That's P22 Vale Pro, a dignified face that I've abused amused(?) with an array of colors.)

In 2011, a version of Scrivener became available for PCs; in 2008, it was Mac-only. If I'd known about it, I would have figured out how to buy a Mac just to run it. Wow, did it make my life easier for the extended, focused, broad-based, complex project that became The Fleece & Fiber Sourcebook. I'm not sure who told me about Scrivener: my niece, Corey, or my daughter's best friend, Jenny, or both. They, and the program, saved whatever shreds of sanity I had left after the PC nightmares.

This will be a nuts-and-bolts post about organization and process. Keep in mind that I was using an earlier version of Scrivener. I've upgraded, but I haven't implemented any new tricks in this legacy file. I also didn't master all of the software's capacities in the version I used then. I didn't have to. Without asking a lot of me, Scrivener provided a flexible, friendly, reliable foundation for a huge project.

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The Scrivener screenshots should be clickable for larger versions. I generally try to keep my images small, but because some people may want to see more detail and I still don't want to hog bandwidth for my friends who are on dial-up (yes, some are), I'm trying something new.

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Moving into Scrivener

I'll start with my overall organizational scheme. I'll drill down into it, then back up to show part of my working process. The entire process would require another book to explain. . . . I hope that what I'm presenting here is helpful and clear.

Keep in mind that you're seeing the final working file. It evolved over several years and through many iterations. Scrivener is so accommodating that way. I would save a snapshot (so I could go back, if I needed to), move things around, and keep making forward progress as I did so. I never did have to go back to a saved version. And I should mention that one of the things I like about Scrivener is that everything in it can be accessed without the program, should computer disasters occur. I don't find a link explaining that detail right now, but I remember it clearly. Scrivener's storage methods are not proprietary.

I started by importing my existing PC folders full of files into Scrivener, which was easy, even though there were heaps of them. Then I started arranging and rearranging, as well as continuing with my research and doing things I couldn't do before—like importing web pages instead of re-keying the pertinent bits.

The Draft folder: overall conceptual framework and a container for final files

In Scrivener, a Draft folder can contain only text, not images or other miscellaneous file types. So I used that top, Draft section for an overview of where we were going, and then as a container for final files. The heavy lifting took place in the Research folder.

This is the big picture, the view from space. Within each folder, we estimated the components' final page counts. The associated file for each family or group sketched out how we intended to use those pages. The allocations changed, of course, but you see the "introductory section" above was scheduled for about 28 pages.

I also ultimately made a second Scrivener project file for Fleece & Fiber. The original project collection ended up being dedicated to the sheep, with cross-references to the second file for all the other animals and the peripheral research (synthetics, silk, and plants). I did keep the old folders in the original file, mostly because I didn't need to take them out (speed, speed . . . ).

Here's the breakdown for the sheep section:

At the bottom of the sheep folder, there's a subfolder called "Sheep reference files for proofing," which contained the text-only versions that we compiled into the final manuscript. I worked FROM this area in Research down into the Draft folder, and then brought my finished work back up here.

The next view shows both the organizing pane on the left and a portion of one of the component files in the window on the right. I've highlighted the file for the English Longwool family. At the right, you can see what breeds we planned to include in this section and the estimated number of pages for each (the bottom showing some of the other breeds we needed to keep in mind as we prepared this section, even though they aren't English Longwools):

A good six months' worth of work preceded the establishment of these folders, during which co-author Carol Ekarius and I went back and forth through e-mail, Skype, and in-person meetings about what would be included and how we would organize it. That's where the "family" and "group" units originated. Sheep breeds can be sorted and associated with each other in infinite numbers of ways. Our final method balanced my fiber-related wish list with Carol's livestock-focused perspective.

I haven't checked yet to see how closely the finished book conforms to the listed page-count targets. Everything changed constantly as we proceeded. (Silk and synthetics obviously weren't part of the scope of our finished work. We pulled them out in the interest of completing the book before the turn of the 22nd century.)

The Research folder: where I lived

Unhampered by the sensible yet strict limitations of the Draft section, a Scrivener project's Research area can contain many types of files: text, images, imported web pages. . . . Because of its flexibility, the research section of the Fleece & Fiber projects (numbers 1 & 2) became my electronic home for several years.

Here is the highest-level view of the sheep-corral Scrivener project, with the research subfolders revealed. It's deceptively (and comfortingly) simple.

Yarns contained details about potential sources for sample yarns (as opposed to fibers). That was mostly Carol's department, although when I came across options while I was doing other research, I'd make notes here and then tell her about them.

I'm going to demo with the SHEEP research.

To make the second project for the OTHER MAMMALS, I copied the original all-encompassing file, renamed it, and deleted all the sheep info from that copy. The X and Z codes in the folder names are my signals that this is information peripheral to the current project, although it's stuff I want to keep track of.

Going deeper into research

Now we begin to get serious. Here's the next level of files and folders under SHEEP research:

At the top are templates that I used for specific types of files, and a couple of running bibliography files. Scrivener now has (and may have had then) better ways to manage templates and bibliographies. My manually implemented methods worked fine, although I pushed the limits of practicality. For the next big project (she says, with trepidation), I'll do more with templates and corkboards. I really didn't need them this time.

Here's a quick side trip to see the contents of my templates folder:

Back to the main tour.

I organized the sheep breeds (and types) alphabetically in subfolders. Initially the folders encompassed larger chunks of the alphabet, say A through F. As time went on, I had to slice more finely. The S breeds ultimately needed two folders!

Here's the C folder, which I'll use for the demo because there were enough breeds to make a one-letter group but not so many I can't get them into a screenshot of reasonable size.

My comprehensive list included breeds that were mentioned in sources I consulted but that have become extinct. (The x in front of the name reminded me not to pay too much attention once I had resolved the breed's status: having these records within the file was useful when I was tracing the development of other breeds that still exist.)

A few of the breeds in that list did not end up in the finished book because we ran out of time. If we had fiber, we fit the breed in. If not, we were forced to let some go. We discussed mules as a category (for example, Cheviot Mule), but mules are crossbreds so the many types of mules didn't get individual treatment.

There are also cross-references in this list. CVM ended up being filed under R for Romeldale, because CVM is currently being treated as a specific type of Romeldale and not as a separate breed (there was a time when it was classed differently). To keep myself from wondering whether I'd lost my CVM notes, I made a blank file to tell me where I'd put them.

Clun Forest is highlighted in the screenshot because I'm going to use it as my example in drilling down farther. Within the Clun Forest folder, which is shown in its finished form, are the DRAFT (working text), a SAMPLE (spinning notes), BREED NOTES, which contained my summary of my research, which is in the stack (rather than folder) of Resource files. The files within the folder progress, in level of completion, from bottom to top:

resources (research) —> notes (summarizing) —> sample(s) (spinning) —> draft (writing).

All of the files and folders contain the breed name, so if things got out of order I could put them back. Items moved constantly as I was working, and this naming convention served as a safety net. I added notes to the FOLDER names about the level of completion for that breed, so I didn't have to open the folders to see where I needed to turn my attention next.

EVERY BREED had a set of files that looked like these. Many sets were much more extensive.

The Resource files got the major action at the start.

I had a template file that stayed at the top of the resource pile called RESEARCH LIST. It summarized the basic resources that I wanted to be sure I checked for each breed. If there was no information on the breed in that resource, I'd mark "none" so I'd remember that I'd already done it. For example, there are no notes for the Clun Forest from Ryder (Sheep and Man). Because Ryder was a primary resource that I was unlikely to skip, yet the information in it is diffuse and requires time to assemble, I might think this was an oversight. I could check my research list and discover it wasn't. From here on, the screenshots show the folder organization on the left and part of the view of the highlighted file itself on the right. Scrivener, of course, has a larger screen area and shows more of the file. I've just cropped my images to keep this discussion as nimble as possible.

I had, indeed, checked Ryder. Yes, he had something to say about Clun Forests, but not enough to warrant a whole file of notes. (Often my Ryder notes were extensive.) On the summary page, I recorded page numbers and topics, in case I needed to retrieve a specific piece of information later.

"Dohner (and mixed sources)" above means that this was an imported file from early research and I'd keyed information from several locations into a single file. Once I was in Scrivener, I did separate out the Dohner portion, because the book (Encyclopedia of Historic and Endangered Livestock and Poultry Breeds) was one of my most important sources. (There's an individual file for it later in the list.) (Scrivener handles multiple files much better than my old C:/sheep folder did, and lets me look at the contents, not just guess at them based on the cryptic names I've given them. Oh, and its search functions are superb!)

The point was not to maintain the system perfectly but to set up scaffolding strong enough to support the bigger tasks of research and writing.

Once I had completed the review of resources, I compiled BREED NOTES into which I cut and pasted (or typed my comments about) the highlights from my searches. This file consisted of quotes and summaries, and is what I put in front of me when I actually started to write (using Scrivener's split-screen function, also a boon at many other times).

See the note about "Data transferred to Numbers" at the bottom of the righthand pane? While Scrivener doesn't handle spreadsheet information especially well, I managed to put some spreadsheets into my BREED NOTES files and to manipulate some data there. I supported this with Numbers (Mac spreadsheet) files; that's part of the "how did I come up with the numbers?" discussion. (Another idea on my list of topics to write about here is how I decided what numbers to put in the breed data boxes for The Fleece & Fiber Sourcebook.But that wasn't a Scrivener task.) 

When I spun fiber from the breed, I made succinct notes about the samples, the tools and techniques I used, and my subjective impressions. I kept a number of the variables standardized, for speed and ease of record-keeping, so those items aren't in the notes. Unless otherwise specified, I used a Lendrum folding wheel with a standard flyer, on its highest-speed whorl.

For some breeds, I made a lot of samples. I chose Clun Forest for this demo because it has all the necessary parts but was not complicated. Each SAMPLE file refers to one source or color of fiber—i.e., one fleece or batch. If I made more than one skein from the same wool, all my experiments are in the same file. (My sample notes are backed up by a separate database (print and electronic) of the fibers we obtained, where they came from, and what they were like. There's enough information here—Hagerstown, MD—for me to locate more detailed background on this wool.)

Finally, I would write. That step occurred in a DRAFT file (still in the Research section, not the Draft section).

When I finished, I would send a copy of that file to Carol, because this was the point at which our writing process became collaborative.

When I sent Carol a file, I marked its status in another Scrivener record I made up to track where we were in our final coordination on each breed, because we sure didn't work in lockstep—as individuals or as a team—from page 1 to the final page! Our major collaborative activities occurred at the beginning of Fleece & Fiber, with a determination of what we would cover and how it would be organized, and at the end, when we blended our contributions into what we think, and hope, is a seamless whole. In between, we kicked ideas and tasks back and forth as needed, but worked independently for the most part.

I put this tracking file under "Templates," back up at the top of the Research folder so I could find it easily.

I still kept within this list the names of breeds and types that we were not covering. Having that information readily available saved time and sanity. In an undertaking of this size, the less time you spend hunting for or wondering about things, the better.

At the bottom of the Templates group, you'll see a TIME PERMITTING summary. This was a place for me to note tasks I'd thought of to do, if we had time: additional types of samples to spin from specific fibers I'd had to set aside in order to move to the next; sidebars we might have written if we had possessed infinite time and could have printed infinite numbers of pages; and so on. I did complete the most important tasks on the list.

And there is, of course, the whole second Scrivener project file for the Other Mammals, which ended up including the EXTENDED sheep as well.

_____

Scrivener, my stalwart companion, has requested some software allies

Scrivener is an amazing tool for organizing and writing a massive project. Carol and I also used a lot of spreadsheets. The array sufficed. We made it.

So why am I looking at other software solutions?

I'm asking Scrivener to do jobs it wasn't designed for. It's been doing them exceptionally well to date, but I need to reserve it for what it's best at: organizing and facilitating writing projects, large and small.

Scrivener is fantastic when you know what you want to do. There are other tools that will work better for the amorphous, preparatory stages, and for managing information that may be used in multiple projects, not yet defined. It's also been fine for organizing workshops so far—planning, tracking details, and putting together the materials and handouts—but as I teach more workshops, I need to quit asking Scrivener to bend over backward for me.

I need to supplement Scrivener with a DATABASE to track fibers, yarns, and workshop information. I need a dedicated BIBLIOGRAPHIC system. I need a way to save, sort, organize, and OCR the PDFs and notes I'm gathering, even though I'm not sure which project or projects I'll need them for. And I need a flexible technique for gathering and moving my ideas around before they've become projects, so I can see how my coming-into-focus thoughts relate to each other (by means of a tool that won't let my ponderings get crumpled up and lost in a pile of papers).

I'm currently beginning to learn:

• Database: Bento (the learning curve and price are appealing, and it already seems helpful)
• Bibliographic system: Bookends (coming along nicely, although I'm not yet sure how it will connect to the other software—actually, the matter of connection is a question I have about everything I'm doing)
• Collecting and organizing research: DevonThink (I have it, and have read the Take Control book and a bunch of stuff on the forums)
• Ideas: TinderBox (I have it, and have read a bunch on the forums and have loaded the tutorials onto my computer)

This is going to take a while. Researching, trying out, deciding on, and investing in the tools has taken about a year. Now I need to get conversant enough with them to entrust them with parts of my workflow. I also have deadlines, which would be easier to meet if I had the new systems in place. Yet the time I can dedicate to learning them is limited.

Onward. The eternal balancing act.

_____

I know this: Scrivener is solid. Even though I've discovered I can't do everything with it, I can do amazing amounts. It's gotten me this far. And Scrivener is a tool that makes work fun.

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 week away

Following the Colorado Art Ranch artposium over Memorial Day weekend, I was offered the blessing of a place to remain longer in Salida and get some (relatively) uninterrupted work done.

I've done this before, while working on the book portion of The Project. (The Project continues, by the way; it's just finding its next expression.) Since the book has just been released, my work needs to flow into new vessels, and my "concentrated time" lacks the strict (nearly rigid) focus of previous retreats. This is more challenging, and I feel less productive. So at the end of the week, I took stock.

I'm going to interleave a few more photos from the workshop I took with Dean Dablow, along with some more normal images later in the post. I had a great time in that workshop.

___

Week's planned tasks and accomplishments, completed:

• Article for PieceWork on four rare sheep breeds that are still around because of the actions of one or two people, 2500-3000 words. Due 7/15, finished and submitted at 3331 words, plus supplementary info. I will trim later. The concept is complicated and will include four accompanying projects that other people will design and make, and my contributions include source recommendations for yarns, leads for photos, and ideas for appropriate projects (an extra 977 words). That's a lot of moving parts and the editorial folks need the lead time to get them all synchronized, so I scheduled the basic writing early. The combination of pieces is slated for the November/December issue. Pays on publication.
• Short back-page essay for Spin-Off about writing the book, focused on supplies needed to get through all the associated tasks, 500-700 words. Due 8/1, finished and submitted, 676 words, with photos. Got a jump on this because I have another article due the same date that requires more prep work. Pays on publication.
• Some ukulele, mostly pleasant chord practice just before bed. I had a Homespun video by Jim Beloff out of the library that I listened to and practiced with (I see there's a second in the set to consider for the future; I may buy both, because I'm not proficient with the skills on #1 yet). I should probably not think of how long I've been using Homespun resources for independent music-learning. First there were cassette tapes, then CDs, now DVDs. The medium changes. The message has been constant.
• A bit of reading in Ensouling Language: The Art of Nonfiction and the Writer's Life, by Stephen Harrod Buhner, a book I found by chance one day at the Tattered Cover—one which needs open yet protected mental space to discover. There is nothing like browsing in an independent bookshop to bring a person in contact with treasures that wouldn't have been encountered otherwise.
• A smidge of narrative writing toward a book I've been working on for about eight years now.
• Blog post on Artposium.

 

 

Planned tasks started but not completed:

• Article for Spin-Off on qualities of wool, 2000 words. Due 8/1; sketched concepts and wrote 1300 words, but that's only a brief coverage of 2 of the 10 or so topics I figured I could get into the piece, out of 30 or more that might be included, although there obviously isn't room. I will need to keep going on the writing, see what ideas seem most pertinent and will fit, and then cut a lot. Pays on publication.
• Information sheet for Explore 4 workshop that I'll be teaching next year. Overdue, as is my blog post about this event (March 11-16, 2012). I created the file and got the text about 90% drafted out; layout not started.

 

 

 

Planned tasks not even started:

• Author/client introductory questionnaire for editorial business. Way overdue. It's close to done, but I didn't touch it. (I did get another idea for what it needs to take it to the next level. I keep getting "take it to the next level" ideas on everything. It's both blessing and curse.)
• Article for Spin-Off on Lincoln Longwool sheep, including a project (due 11/1), 3600 words. I didn't even start research—this will involve a lot of work, including spinning yarn and making something. At least I have bought the fiber. Pays on publication (income reduced by cost of fleece).

Unplanned tasks:

• Connected with The Book Haven about possible signing in November 2011.
• Talked with Organization 1 about teaching there in July 2012 (likely not a fit, but we're still discussing).
• Negotiated with Organization 2 about teaching there, with a potential add-on at a neat-sounding shop nearby, in July 2012. My final schedule may include Organization 1 or Organization 2, not both, because my workshops take a huge amount of prep work (finding, cleaning, and organizing fibers) and I can only do a few a year. Maybe neither of these will actually happen, if the details can't be worked out, but #2 is sounding promising. Pays/reimburses after completion of event.
• Came across an idea for another book that I might want to write, and made initial publisher contact to assess potential interest. (I might publish it myself, if they aren't interested and I don't want to let go of it. Too early to tell.) If someone else wants to publish it, there's an advance (likely small, but everything helps).
• Trip to Buena Vista, Colorado, to visit Serendipity, which has wonderful yarns and all sorts of intriguing stuff to look at. This was totally self-indulgent, but I met Mikki and Joan and it was fun to show them the book. I may do a signing there when I'm in the area again in November. Mikki took my picture with owner Tami's camera, which appears to work although I look a bit stiff . . . I'm not great at posing, and the book is heavy  . . . and then she wrote a blog post, thus revealing that I went shopping in the middle of my work week {grin}. It was fun, and I definitely needed the change of contexts.
• Lots of back-and-forth about a book I'm working on publishing (Nomad Press), including receiving essential files in an obsolete format and figuring out how to convert them when even the nearly-always-reliable OpenOffice refused to open them. (Zamzar rocks!)
• Talked with another writer about her multiple book ideas and helped her focus and prioritize them—a highlight!

Interleaved with:

• Yoga and meditation, daily.
• Visited the Salida Bread Company for the first time (and the second . . . would have visited more, except it took time to eat the bread I bought).
• Lovely dinner visit with Susan, Richard, Kerry, David, and Little (Little is a delightful cattle dog; I got to pat Little on both visits to the Salida Bread Company, too).
• A few bike rides and walks. Nowhere near as many as I would have liked, but getting stuff done requires staying inside and doing it.
• A bit of trash picking along the stream adjacent to where I was staying—I mostly removed plastic bags from the water, plus some old newspapers, a bunch of cigarette butts, and a soda can.
• Keeping up with a smattering of online networks, including stopping in at Ravelry once and answering messages.
• A little knitting of samples to use in teaching yarn/fiber workshops.
• Pleasantly simple meals, a number of them consisting of salads . . . with avocado, which my daughter prefers not to eat.
• Tea and a visit on the last morning there with Sherrie and David, since we'd barely seen each other because everyone was working so hard and it's silly to have traveled that far and be that close for more than a week and not get in a visit.

__

Biking interlude

Here are a few photos from my bike ride at the end of the afternoon on the day before I left. It had been hot, and several of the days the air was smoky from the big fires south and west of us, in Colorado, New Mexico, and even as far as Arizona. This day ended quite clear.

This is one of the county roads, with a bike trail next to it. Even when the county roads in this county are paved, they mostly don't have shoulders. (Some are dirt two-tracks.) That's the smooth, straight bike path leading to the west. On this particular day, there wasn't much smoke from the wildfires to the south. Or there was, but the wind blew it on past.

Deer hang out all over. This one was in a subdivision, between the houses and a church. There were three more hunkered down in the shade on the church lawn.

They're pretty acclimated to humans, and eat people's gardens, both flower and food types. If you're driving on the highways or county roads in the area, stay alert. They may cross the road in front of you at any time, often in groups of three or four. That wasn't a concern when I was on my bike.

___

Hey! A project really completed!

On the day I got home, the new issue of Spin-Off (Summer 2011) had just arrived.

It contains the article I wrote way back in January on Soay sheep (there was more to say than we could fit in The Fleece and Fiber Sourcebook, even though we included a lot there).

That sweet ewe on the far left is demonstrating the molting, or natural shedding, of her fleece.

Small samples of several types of Soay wool.

And lots of words. I like words. I also like pictures! The photos in this article came from varied sources, including my own camera, Interweave's studio shots, and Steve and Priscilla Weaver.

So nice to see a piece in print. (And since it's been published, I get paid!)

 

The spaces between things

One of the brief workshops I took at the Colorado Art Ranch artposium on Dwellings was presented by photographer Dean Dablow. He has photographed the spaces between dwellings, which are very revealing. He called his session "The Space Between Us," and offered a sampling of his photos as inspiration and then sent us out with whatever cameras we might have (some worked with iPhones) to look at the spaces between . . . anything.

I'm always interested in new ways of perceiving. We only had about 45 minutes, and couldn't go far. Fortunately, I didn't have to go far to find cool stuff. My "between" also occasionally morphed into "beneath." At the end, those of us who chose to do so could bring our image-capturing devices back inside where Dean talked with us about the photos we'd taken and what we'd discovered.

Here are some of the shots I took—I greatly enjoyed the search for the in-between.

*

*

*

*

Not exactly "between," but while I was framing the image above, I couldn't resist this one.

*

 
and . . .

I don't think I traveled more than 40 feet from the workshop space to find all of those, and more.

Colorado Art Ranch artposium: Dwellings

You don't have to live in Colorado to go to a Colorado Art Ranch artposium. I do happen to live in the state, but it's not a requirement. You just need to like good company and fascinating conversations, and to entertain the idea that looking at something from all sides will reveal more than a single view from a fixed position can show.

The Colorado Art Ranch has no fixed location. It was "founded on the belief that the arts are an agent for change." It organizes and hosts events in parts of the state that are outside the metropolitan areas. In Colorado, that gives the catalyst-organizers a lot of options. They decide on a topic, find people from a variety of backgrounds and perspectives to talk about aspects of it, and then we all get together and stretch our brains in delightful ways. I have left every artposium with a changed perspective and bigger ideas. And I've met a lot of terrific people.

The artposium last week took place in Salida, a mountain town southwest of Denver, and the topic was Dwellings. That last link leads to artist Sherrie York's more comprehensive post about the artposium. This next link will go to the Colorado Art Ranch information on Dwellings information now, but soon it will instead feature the next event, which is . . . 

Hardrock Revision 

The next gathering has the intention of using both art and science to figure out what to do with an inactive silver mine and its associated town site. That's a significant problem, involving historic buildings, economic difficulties, and the complications of pollution.

Hardrock Revision has four main objectives:

1. Stimulate open and productive discussion about possible uses for an inactive mine in Hinsdale County.
2. Foster dialogue between the mining and the environmental communities.
3. Develop guiding principles for choosing solutions to the inactive mine site that are consistent with the community’s values and goals.
4. Test a model for collaboration among artists and scientists to address an ecological and social issue.

Using "the arts as a tool for creative problem solving," the project will address "the community’s needs through stakeholder participation, an art-science collaboration for envisioning uses for the mine site, and a public forum of the team’s collaborative recommendations."

I can't attend that one, but I look forward to hearing what happens!

Dwellings

Meanwhile, I did get to be part of the Dwellings artposium last weekend. In a way characteristic of Colorado Art Ranch's definitions, "dwellings" included bodies, solutions to homelessness and refugee situations, affordable housing with dignity, being at home in words, an anthropologist's view of the importance of habitations in culture and environment, photographs of the spaces between houses, and more. This particular event was given continuity by the poetic and musical contributions of the River City Nomads, a group of five poets (I can't find a link for one of the poets) and a musician who interpreted the shifting themes in their six individual voices, which gathered to create a sort of dwelling for the event itself.

When I reviewed the offerings, I noticed that the planners had missed a dwellings concept that I consider important, so I prepared my brief presentation to repair the omission.

Here are my slides:

Time was short and I needed to focus on one aspect of the situation, so I chose:

We've got three generations of my family represented here, and the five images on the left represent clothing we've made for ourselves or for each other. The blue sweater in close-up is my daughter's first complete knitting project, for which she chose the yarn, planned the design, and worked every stitch. She's wearing it in the adjacent photo. At upper right, my sister and I are in another type of portable dwelling: protective clothing for biking.

I discussed the idea that clothing doesn't need to be ephemeral, and can be passed around among the generations.

Then I shifted to three examples of specific items made to serve as spiritual, as much as physical, portable dwellings.

First, I showed a piece made with handspun yarn from Gulf Coast Native sheep—a rare breed that offers an interesting contrast to the synthetics that many people are choosing instead of natural fibers. I'd rather have sheep on the Gulf Coast than an oil spill. The fiber came from Spirit Trail Fiberworks, dyed by Jennifer Heverly. I knitted the scarf, "for a friend who needs some serious frivolity," using the Helix pattern by another friend, Stephenie Gaustad. Stephenie was inspired by nudibranchs, a fact the intended recipient would appreciate.

Next I looked at locally sourced yarn. For Jared Flood, who imagined this yarn and then did the work to make it exist in the world, "local" means U.S.-sourced. For us in Colorado it has an even closer relationship, the fiber having been grown in Wyoming, our neighbor to the north. Jared calls the yarn Shelter, which certainly fit the weekend's theme, although I would have used this yarn no matter what name it carried. It's great. I knitted a hat from Jared's Fortnight pattern, and those are his photos on the model (used with his permission). This was made for a friend "who needs bounce and brightness."

(Note for the fiber folk: although I put locks of Targhee and Columbia wool in the photo and talked a bit about different qualities of wool, the fiber from which the yarn is constructed is grown by crossbred sheep, Targhee X Columbia. The blend is produced in the animal, not the mill.)

Finally, I turned to the use of yarns that support communities on other continents, using Frog Tree's Merino yarn to make another of Jared's Fortnight hats. (It's a great pattern and I have it memorized now.) This hat is for a friend "who needs softness and serenity." This friend and the person for whom I made the previous hat are partners; there's a bit of yarn from the first hat incorporated into the brim of the second one.

There's a lock of Merino wool in this slide, too, and I talked about how many Merinos there are in the world (it's not a rare breed) and how crucial it is in the current economy of wools. Yet I also talked about how being aware of where one's Merino comes from—for example, from Frog Tree's community-supporting program—makes a difference.

 

And with those combinations of physical and emotional shelter, manifested in the form of a few small knitted items, I said my piece.

___

One of BK Loren's workshops on Saturday was especially productive for me. I've spent the subsequent week writing several types of things here, all with deadlines, and the approach she suggested fed into my process and freshened it for me.

One more note. In preparation for the weekend, I had read BK's The Way of the River: Adventures and Meditations of a Woman Martial Artist. Excellent. And that comment comes from someone who (as you'll know if you've been here before) is far more interested in fiber arts than in martial arts. Recommended (except for the font the publisher used on the cover; not the author's fault, and once you open the book you don't notice any more). Check it out.

As fragmented as this view of the weekend has been, I do have a few more souvenirs to share in another post.

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!

Certificate of excellence, part 3

Part 1 is here and part 2 is here.

The Project, including The Fleece and Fiber Sourcebook and Handspinning Rare Wools

In 2007, I got caught up in The Project, which was supposed to be a comparatively concise effort, completed by August 2008, and has so far grown to require almost four years and has resulted in the upcoming publication of The Fleece and Fiber Sourcebook, co-written with Carol Ekarius. I hope and believe the book will delight and inform other members of the textile community as much as the research, fiber processing, spinning, and writing required to bring it into being have supplied me with insight and increased knowledge.

 

 

And then there is the set of DVDs for Interweave, Handspinning Rare Wools. Plus teaching a few workshops on general breed-specific and rare-breed wools.

 

What next?

Well, I could undertake a certificate program (see part 1 of this sequence of posts). That would mean choosing not to write the next book I have in mind; perhaps not teaching workshops on wools, rare and otherwise; and likely not editing and producing publications that present other people's discoveries and support the creative growth of the textile community as a whole.

It would mean I'd need to at least temporarily abandon the exploration of sheep and of wool and of other fibers that truly fascinate me (to complete the initial parts of the certification process). Yes, some of what I know already and want to learn might feed into the in-depth study portion of a certificate program, but I would need to jump through a lot of hoops before I got to that point.

I'm not willing to do that.

When I have read through the requirements of the COE program in its past iterations (the specifications have been revised a number of times over the years, and I don't have a current set), I can already check off the majority of the experiences, although I would undoubtedly have to do them again in order to submit materials for evaluation. I would also need to pay more attention to my spinning in order to produce skeins of the consistency required for evaluation, something I'm loathe to do because it would require me to give up the adventures that have, for example, allowed me to produce the yarn samples for The Fleece and Fiber Sourcebook, some of which (even though they were all produced in a rush) hint at the possibility that I might have the concentration and skill necessary to complete a COE in handspinning. (Or would I get a COE in weaving? Or do a certificate program in spinning through an organization other than HGA? Or complete a TKGA Master Knitter sequence? Is there a certificate in other types of fiber manipulation, one that would let me further explore nalbinding, luceting, bobbin lace, braiding, and tatting?)

Most especially, there at least one book that I want to be researching and writing next.

A digression about something I've learned from yoga

I've been spinning for more than thirty-five years. I've been doing yoga almost as long. I take yoga classes now and again, and at one point, when I was studying with an excellent local instructor, I realized that I had "given" my practice to her. I was no longer doing it at home for my own pleasure. I was waiting for her to tell me what to do, and for her to correct me.

Because my personal, daily practice is vitally important to me, I quit attending the classes and reclaimed responsibility for my own yoga. Without question, I learned a great deal from that teacher and have incorporated valued elements of what she taught into what I do on my own. I also do continue to support my practice by taking occasional weekend workshops—if I'm lucky and if time, money, and location all coincide, as often as once a year—from people I particularly want to study with.

Despite all these years of yoga, I have never had more than a passing interest in teaching it myself, any more than I have been compelled to earn a Certificate of Excellence. The thought comes; the thought goes. I want to keep these aspects of my life for myself, not give them away, as I do with so much else.

End of the yoga digression

Because I am so curious about fibers, particularly wools and most especially about all aspects of the sheep who grow rare wools, my own spinning will likely never reach the levels of proficiency and consistency that I have admired in the work of others. (It's also a bit daunting to have been in regular contact for many years with yarns by folks like Stephenie Gaustad, Charles Black, Sara Lamb, Rita Buchanan, and Kaye Collins.)

I love spinning, and I love working with the yarns I make. I don't care if they are totally consistent. I can count twists and measure angles, and that type of information makes it easier for everyone to communicate details about spinning through media such as print and the internet. In my personal life, I choose not to count and measure very much. The yarns I produce make me happy. The process of spinning delights me. That's enough.

If I'm going to give in many and deep ways to the textile community, as it seems I am wired to do pretty much regardless of personal cost, I'd rather do so in a way that is both unique to me and, in my opinion, most effective and meaningful. My way seems to be through writing, researching, and supporting overall creativity in others. Not by earning a Certificate of Excellence in anything, as enjoyable and personally satisfying as that might be.

In my opinion, the sheep and their wools need a dedicated advocate more than I need a Certificate of Excellence, even if my concentration in earning such a credential did happen to focus on rare fibers.

So no, I won't be going there.

Stay tuned here for more information on where I will be going. Some of it I can talk about in the very near future. Other parts need to stay tucked away for a while. I do always aim to achieve excellence, although I'm going to need to forego the certificate part.

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Addendum

My editing, coaching, and publishing work is not all about textiles

P.S. As part of earning a living, I also edit books on non-textile subjects. As with the books mentioned in part 2, some of the works highlighted below were staff projects, although most have been done on a freelance basis. My roles have varied widely. Sometimes I've just gotten the writer past a stuck spot; a few involved simple manuscript processing and copyediting; and on others I've guided the process from initial idea to completed book.

 

________________________________

I think that's more than enough for now. I've been knitting a bit, and have some photos to share. Spinning in scraps of time, too, and need to take pictures of that. The knitting and spinning are for the delight of it, and to keep myself moderately sane.