The Independent Stitch

Wool and the idea of terroir

This is another post about my trip to mainland Scotland, Orkney, and Shetland, although it's also another digression from the chronological/topical sequence. It's about fleeces.

And because my blog posts are never long enough, I'll add that the Rare Breeds Survival Trust has just released its 2014 Watchlist of at-risk breeds. New to the list is Devon Closewool, previously geographically but not numerically endangered; new to last year's list was Border Leicester. Moving to improved categories are North Ronaldsay, Leicester Longwool, and Hill Radnor. Let's keep on using these special wools and supporting the shepherds and their flocks! And now, on a very closely related topic. . . .

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We hear about terroir with regard to foods, for the most part: the concept began, I think, with wine, and refers to "the complete natural environment in which a particular wine is produced, including factors such as the soil, topography, and climate." The dictionary most easily accessed from my place in the coffee shop this morning goes on to discuss goût de terroir, which means "the characteristic taste and flavor imparted to a wine by the environment in which it is produced" (the quotes are from the quick-reference dictionary on my Mac computer).

The borrowing of concepts from one area of interest to another can lead to meaning-drift in the terms. That can be beneficial—in the way that it sheds light on the new topic by viewing it through an established lens from elsewhere—or it can be detrimental, because the way the concept applied in the first case needs to be tweaked (and thus its meaning shifted) in order to apply to the second.

An example is the terms tog and thel (þel), which refer, respectively, to the outer and inner coats of Icelandic fleeces. I hear these words used with reference to other breeds, and even other species, but I personally think they need to stay with the Icelandic wools because while they mostly apply to the others reasonably well, there are other words that work for the non-Icelandics and in my experience there seem to be related characteristics of the Icelandic wools that don't always show up in the other contexts.

So while I'm not ready to abscond with the word terroir to describe wools, I can easily trace its root back to the Latin terra, meaning earth, and note that there are longstanding connections between specific types (and breeds) of sheep and the landscapes within which they thrive, and I'll show you a little of why I am thinking about those things this week.

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I didn't intend to buy any fleeces while I was on my trip.

Okay, now that you've stopped laughing, there are reasons. I was there to study the sheep and the wool, not to acquire fiber. And I wasn't at all sure about how I could get a bunch of stuff back to the States: there were major matters of logistics and cost and I wasn't at all confident that I would have time or resources to deal with them.

However.

I left the Scottish Smallholder and Grower Festival with two Ryeland fleeces, thinking ahead to the Explore 4 Retreat in Friday Harbor, Washington, in March, and that if the fleeces turned out to be suitable I thought the people who come to the retreat might really enjoy them. I should say that I don't announce the breeds ahead of time, because I need to know that I have appropriate fibers in hand—both quality and quantity—before I commit to covering a breed in Explore 4. As you'll see, that's something that takes time and can involve cliffhangers.

In any case, friends offered to help with the logistics of getting the fleeces back. And as time went on, it became clear that their offer was, indeed, serious, so I got the Ryelands.

As those who read the last post noted, I then bought a few fleeces on North Ronaldsay.

And by the time I reached Shetland, it seemed inappropriate not to bring back samples of the wool that is central to my current research. Especially when I reached the room of the Jamieson & Smith building in Lerwick where they put fleeces that have been pulled aside for handspinners to explore. "Samples" in this case involved whole fleeces.

I wanted a range of types, and so I picked out fleeces with varied characteristics and colors.

Jeni Reid took that photo. I really was that happy, and I'd been very reserved about what I bought in comparison with what I wanted to buy. And in comparison to what some other folks bought—! Well, I hardly bought anything at all.

Back at the self-catering unit I was sharing with friends, those friends who were egging me on in all this, we all evaluated our acquisitions (another photo by Jeni).

As it turned out, most of my fleeces were significantly wetter than I anticipated or than they'd felt in the cooler wool room. I think the warmth of the apartment may have begun the physical process involved in wool releasing water. Wool can absorb approximately 30 percent of its weight in liquid without feeling wet—one of the fiber's magical qualities, with the exact amount varying by the individual configurations of the structural components of the fibers. (That was a mouthful. Wool fibers are all "built" the same way, but the sizes and relationships of the building blocks vary, and so, therefore, do the precise behaviors.)

Of the eight Shetland fleeces that I bought, I was only comfortable sending three back home directly from Shetland (which was the most cost-effective and easiest transportation option). The others needed drying-out.

Along with the two Ryeland fleeces and the three North Ronaldsay fleeces, five of the Shetlands went back to mainland Scotland with me and spent time losing some of their moisture. The friends I was staying with had a guest room with a wire-frame mattress support, so once we set the mattress aside we could get good air circulation around the wool, and they also handily own a dehumidifier.

So of the total thirteen fleeces (! how did that happen?), eight spent time in the closed room with the water being coaxed out of them. Yes, there was a lot of water. I have weight numbers and at some point will calculate how much water. Occasional canine supervision was required.

It took a while to figure out how to ship this array to the States as economically as possible. The method finally chosen wasn't cheap, but it worked well. The three boxes arrived a few days ago—after one of our recent snowstorms.

I don't expect the customs agents to have memorized the entire bulky complicated mess of import regulations, and I am willing to bet that most haven't seen raw wool before, and that when faced with it they might be likely to err on the conservative side and reject a perfectly legal shipment. Thus each box carried a copy of the appropriate page from the US Department of Agriculture's regulations pertaining to incoming shipments of raw fibers, with the appropriate bits highlighted. (There's a PDF of that page here.)

The three boxes—about 18 kg (40 pounds) in all (part of that was books)—came through without a hitch. Except for that one ripped spot on the end of one of the boxes. Nothing was lost.

I'd continued to consider featuring Ryeland at the upcoming Explore 4 Fiber Retreat in March, but until the wool was actually here, that wasn't something I could count on or announce. (Some of the fibers I'm planning to use for that retreat are still on the sheep's backs, fortunately here in the U.S. I do have backup plans if the timing for shearing, or washing, ends up going off-schedule.)

So I was especially happy to see the two Ryeland fleeces, one dark and one white, come out of the box.

Isn't this one pretty? That's it's identifying number tied on. Kind of fun to have. Nice typography. This fleece had to go first in the line-up for washing because I envisioned it having a job to do in the near future at that workshop. (I had washed the white fleece while in Scotland. It dried while I was off in Orkney and Shetland.)

I love watching the scouring liquid (in this case, Unicorn Power Scour) do its work, removing the grease with very little intervention from me.

I did run into a slight problem. That particular Ryeland fleece, with its shades of dark and light grays and browns, washed up so beautifully that I began to think I needed to keep part of it for myself—at least enough so I could make a hat or mittens. (Friends suggested what I know, which is that these items become teaching samples that become extremely useful in helping people understand how to use different types of fleeces.) To keep some fiber, even a little bit, I'd need to find, and have shipped, yet another Ryeland fleece in time for the workshop. And this time of year is not ideal for acquiring fleece: last year's clip is gone, and this year's clip is still keeping the sheep warm.

So I wrote hopeful, inquiring e-mails and turned to washing one of the Shetlands. This was the one I'd called #4 and written down as being light gray in color. It's what Oliver Henry, the wool buyer and classer at Jamieson and Smith in Shetland, called "toppy." (I bought Shetlands with several fleece configurations, for use in a fall workshop.) And a truly beautiful gray.

So I began to set up the washing trays.

Here's the first rinse, and the darkness of the water surprised me, because I usually only see that much color when there's been obvious dirt or mud on a fleece.

Well, this is interesting. Second soaking:

Wool is full of surprises. About this time, I woke up. PEAT! 

Shetland is full of peat, and the sheep spend their time among it. It colors the streams and rivers a deep coffee color.

And now its fine, fine particles were washing off the fleece in my tub.

And the wool was growing lighter in tone.

Here's a picture I took of cut stacks of peat, which is used for fuel.

And a close-up.

Peat is a topic for consideration in its own right, forming amazingly slowly and deserving of conservation. It saturates the landscape.

As do sheep.

As it turns out, both traveled home with me, the peat so fine that it simply appeared to color the fiber, and because of its fineness to color the fleece gray rather than peat-brown, and not to be obvious at all. What I ended up with was a beautiful, gleaming white fleece.

It's common for spinners to buy what they think is a lovely light brown fleece at a festival and to be disappointed, when they get it home and wash it, to discover that it's actually light gray. This always seems sad to me, not because it wasn't what they expected but because it usually is a gorgeous gray, suddenly not appreciated for being itself.

In this case, yes, I did think I had a lovely gray and I got a white.

In a way, this single fleece reminds me of two of the moods I enjoyed in Shetland: the muted. . . .

. . . and the sparkling.

If that isn't a fine thing, I don't know what is.

Terroir at its most basic and pragmatic, and at its most fleeting and suggestive.

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Left: unwashed. Right: clean and ready to go.

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P.S. on the additional Ryeland fleece: Good news to come in another post. It's already here. I'll wash it soon.

Retreat (with wool) on Maryland's Eastern Shore

The Scotland, Orkney, and Shetland travel notes will continue, interleaved with real-time updates. There's so much to share. . . . 

I'm home again, and while I wasn't ready to leave the places where I traveled, I was ready to be in a familiar environment. Greetings from the family, both two-legged and four-legged, were enthusiastic and welcoming. I need a haircut. I need to deal with the mail. And so on. But right now I'm taking a breather from the mail to remember the wonderful time in St. Michaels, Maryland. (I keep wanting to put appropriate apostrophes into the names of places, even though the Powers That Be have determined that they don't belong any more.)

And a reader with ties to the Eastern Shore has asked for pictures and notes about that event, which just pushes it to the top of the queue (before life stampedes along again). We had a great time, in a beautiful location, with a range of interesting fibers.

The breeds we covered—all locally sourced—were: Corriedale, Hog Island, Jacob, and Shetland.

Here's a view of a St. Michaels harbor, as seen from the Town Dock restaurant. They have excellent seafood, of course, and they also had superb grilled veggie ravioli for me. (Just listen: "jumbo raviolis filled with grilled red peppers, onions, asparagus, mushrooms and Ricotta cheese served over our own pesto cream sauce and garnished with roasted walnuts and Parmesan cheese"—the sauce wasn't too rich, and the presentation was exquisite.)

The harbor saw traffic from different sorts of boats than I'm accustomed to looking at (which are fishing boats, mostly). However, there were a couple of groups of kayakers as well.

This is the inn where we stayed for the workshop. Several local folks joined us. The inn has other buildings. This is the main (old) house, where my room was on the second floor and our workshop space was on the first floor.

Lucy is dog-in-residence.

The views from all directions are stunning.

This is the breakfast room, in which we held the workshop. We did need to condense our workspace every night in preparation for the morning meal, but it was a lovely room in which to spend our days. There's a lot to be said for views and natural light.

In the Explore 4 workshops, I pick out a set of breeds to cover that will offer opportunities for comparing and contrasting wool types; that will shed light on some of the history of sheep; and that will give us lots of opportunities to play with different preparation and spinning techniques.

The Corriedale fleeces that we had showed variety within the breed, which we talked about. Much of the "retreat" involves just spinning and trying things, with me there as a resource once I've presented some basic material. It's both relaxing and instructive. There's nothing like experimenting to promote a sense of learning and accomplishment (I do love seeing what different things I can do with a particular fiber). Obviously, the crimp patterns, lock structures, and other qualities of the two Corriedale fleeces that we had were quite different. Yet in our hands, they were both quite distinctively Corriedale.

The second day was Hog Island, which I'll come back to at the end. I pace the sequence of wools in the workshop in particular ways, so the experiences build on each other.

The third day focused on Jacobs. We talked about the differences between commercially prepared fiber and starting from fleece; between U.K. and U.S. Jacobs; and between one flock and the next. We had two contrasting fleeces to work with.

Some people decided to sort the colors: the question, of course, is where one leaves off and the next begins! But the resulting range of harmonious shades can be utterly charming. (This was Haven's fleece.)

Then there's the temptation to "spin it as it comes," a valid choice that actually turns out to have its own challenges. (This was Bess's fleece.)

After providing background information in the morning, I spent the afternoons spinning along with everyone, fielding questions, offering perspective, and sometimes sharing discoveries I was making as I worked with the same fiber that everyone else had in hand. In the evenings, which were technically "off," I knitted or wove small swatches of some of my samples. The sizes of the samples varied, depending on how much I'd gotten done, and I still have my Shetland swatches to knit because on the final night I was packing up the workshop materials, instead of playing with fiber.

Here are a few of my swatches:

This was half of my room. I had a private bath, just to the right off the hall at the top of the stairs. It was great to have enough room to organize each day's materials in advance.

The windows by the bed did look out across the bay, and one morning I caught a well-lighted freighter going past just after dawn. The picture is textured because I shot it through the window screen. Sunsets were gorgeous, too.

On some lunch breaks, I walked around. I was tempted to keep spinning, but the weather and the location were too pretty not to discipline myself to get outside for a while. This photo is looking toward the inn (the hammock is between the inn and the shore).

I love collecting textures. . . .

And textiles. . . . Even better is textures AND textiles.

There were a lot of good places to wander around, and even take a decent-length walk and still get back in time for the afternoon session.

This is a tree that I mentioned to my sister. It had fallen into the water, and I have more pictures of it. It was a grand and beautiful thing, with growth patterns that indicated a challenging life that had been made whole by the way it accommodated and incorporated what had happened in its time on the shore. At different times of the tide, more or less of it was revealed.

I didn't quite figure out who this bird was. It wouldn't let me get close enough for a decent look, and I didn't have any binoculars with me.

It's obviously in the heron/egret family, and has a yellow-orange bill, but I couldn't quite pinpoint it with the bird guide that was at the inn. I suspect someone else will be able to identify it for me faster than I can currently get the Cornell ornithology site to load! (I'm at a coffee shop on a slow, and much in demand, connection.) I'm kinda guessing it was a Great Egret, not a common sight where I've done most of my birding (Colorado, Washington state, and Alaska).

Because of the season, the trees were turning (as you can see above) while the gardens still offered a bounty of bloom:

This little beauty was tricky to get a photo of! 

Lots of splendid things to see.

The whole experience was restorative and productive for me, and according to what they said it was the same for the participants. That's the goal.

And now to end with a little bit about Hog Island, a rare breed that has a close historical association with the area because the sheep developed on an island off the Virginia coast, just south of Maryland's Eastern Shore.

I'll be the first to say that Hog Island fleeces are not ones that a handspinner would initially find appealing, given a range of choices. And they are a little tricky to handle. That's why we did them on day 2: I wanted to start off with something a bit easier to get everyone warmed up. I don't have my samples of the exact fleeces that we worked with handy, but this is a fairly typical Hog Island lock:

I didn't have my standard background, with its reference line of 4 inches/10 cm, handy, but that lock is about 2.5 inches/6.5 cm long. It's matte, and a little flat, and while there's a lot of crimp in there it's disorganized (not a problem for the yarn or textile, but the visual appeal of the locks isn't high). And yet. . . . This was the workaday wool for a group of people for a number of years, and spending some time with it can reveal a lot about history and human ingenuity.

And once we got into processing and spinning it, we managed to produce some yarns and samples that made us think we'd like to seek out more!

Above are samples of our four Hog Island fleeces, two light and two dark. The bit at upper right is a tiny section of Corriedale, to show the overall warm nature of the Hog Island whites: they differed from each other, too, with white #2 being a lot creamier than white #1. In the blacks, black #1 was a nice solid dark and softer than black #2, which nonetheless had a fantastic sturdy and tweedy texture. As I was working with them, I could see white #1 or black #1 as being especially well suited for making knitted garments with texture stitches—like cables or knit/purl combinations—because the body of the yarn would give them a bas-relief quality. White #2 seemed to want to be a lighter-weight garment (it was the warmer white), while black #2 would make a fantastic jacket. It was a bit coarse for more delicate applications.

Interestingly, many of the participants' best samples of several of the breeds we covered were made by spinning directly from gently opened locks. Zero tools other than hands and a spinning device. (We also talk about various tools and approaches, from the inexpensive and low-tech to the fully equipped textile workshop's array.)

And so we learn. . . . 

Right now, I'm thinking about fibers for next fall's East Coast retreat, and am deep in the throes of deciding on breeds (I think I've got that settled) and gathering fleeces (final breed decisions depend on this step) for the retreat in Washington state in March 2014.

Ann Kingstone's "Born and Bred" Yorkshire-based designs

Those of you who, like me, enjoy books on the order of Clara Parkes' The Knitter's Book of Wool and Sue Blacker's Pure Wool: A Guide to Using Single-Breed Yarns have a new collection to check out: Ann Kingstone's Born & Bred: Yorkshire Sheep, Yorkshire Style (the extra links go to Ann's other collections, also good to peruse).

I'd describe Ann's accomplishment here as succinct, sweet, and a little bit sassy—while well seasoned with elegance. She published this collection in conjunction with yarn shop baa ram ewe, from which all the yarns are said to be available. (I also found some kits. Nose around the site and see what you discover, too.)

I love the way Ann has designed for a variety of styles and situations and yarn weights, producing nine projects, all of which I find appealing enough to cast on for. I found myself wishing that I'd had the hooded jacket pattern to knit for my daughter when she was small. I knitted her a hooded jacket that she wore for several years (handknits seemed to fit for longer than commercial knits did), so we didn't miss out, but what a sweet garment that is (lower right on the cover, above).

Among other things, I greatly enjoyed the connection Ann made between a number of sheep of the area (of course!) and the designs. The sheep she talks about, and some of whose wool she uses in her patterns, include Wensleydales (both white and colored), Swaledales (those are the sheep at the top of the contents page, just below), Whitefaced Woodlands (a really old breed), and Mashams, which are a traditional crossbred (composed often of Wensleydale × Swaledale, or very similar breeds). Yorkshire is where the annual and famous Masham Sheep Fair is held (it will be September 28 and 29 this year). Both Wensleydales and Whitefaced Woodlands are rare breeds.

Because this is how I think about collections of knitting patterns, here's a summary of the patterns, with quick notes about the designs, the yarn weights, and the specific yarns Ann used:

• Wetwang, a pullover sweater (jumper) with graceful black swans around the yoke and lovely, subtle detailing - DK weight, Wensleydale Longwool yarn from the Wensleydale Longwool Sheepshop
• Roseberry, the wee one's coat - bulky weight, Rowan Purelife British Sheep Breeds Chunky Undyed in the shade "Light Masham"
• Betty, a tea cosy named after some tea shops I've been told are wonderful - bulky weight, baa ram ewe's "Rare," which is Whitefaced Woodland (yay!) combined with Hebridean (lovely stuff, too)
• Ilkley Moor, a tam - fingering weight, from baa ram ewe "Titus" (Yorkshire fibers: 50% gray Wensleydale, 20% Bluefaced Leicester, and 30% alpaca—yes, the alpaca connection is explained)
• Baht 'At, fingerless mitts - fingering weight, from baa ram ewe "Titus" (same as Ilkley Moor, above; the two designs are related in concept as well as yarn and patterning)
• Hild, a pullover hoodie - aran weight, "Jarol Pure British Wool Aran" from Masham sheep
• Wharfe, boot toppers (not just pretty but practical: keep the wellie tops from chafing legs!) - bulky weight, from baa ram ewe's "Rare" again (Whitefaced Woodland and Hebridean blend)
• Little Tyke, a color-patterned vest for small people - DK weight, Wensleydale Longwool Sheepshop yarn
• Swaledale clogs - aran weight, felted, from British Breeds "Swaledale Aran" (which may later be in stock at baa ram ewe, but I can't find it right now although I did find this)

The names of the designs come from places, a saint, a song (okay, DON'T miss that link! it's just over a minute, and goes really well after the longer clip at Baht 'At above), and more, all with Yorkshire ties. Even though the accompanying text is short, it strikes me as perfectly suited and it's personably informative.

Born & Bred is available in print and digital editions (Ravelry link for the digital version, with more photos of the designs). I am utterly charmed by it.

I haven't done giveaways much before, but Ann tells me we can do one and I opted for the digital edition. If you'd like your name thrown in the hat (probably a hand-knitted cap, actually), let me know in the comments. I'll figure out how to do a giveaway. I'll probably make my daughter do the drawing, so: (1) all names in by April 2, (2) drawing the weekend of April 6 and 7. Please remind me if I forget (see note about the days getting away from me in the post from two releases ago).

Oh, and I almost forgot. Yes, I did already cast on for one of the patterns and it's a fun knit. This one still needs finishing of the ribbing around the hand (in process) and on the thumb opening. I'd hoped to have it done in time for this post (well, I'd hoped to have a pair, but I always want to do more than is quite possible), however . . . I got most of the first one completed!

Baht 'At (check out the song, or Ann's book, for the meaning of the name):

Not entirely off-topic:

While I was finding links for this post, I discovered Moorland Pottery, which has a number of items I enjoyed looking at, some of them relating to sheepdogs, Herdwicks, other Lake District sheep (which look a whole lot like the Scots sheep, but then we're not talking representational art here), and what caught my eye first, the chickens in the wooly jumpers. . . . And yes, Yorkshire-themed items, including some that are "born and bred," which was how I ended up on the site.

Wool and chocolate: treasures to start a new year

Now here's a splendid way to start a new year.

On the right, treats from Theo Chocolate in Seattle. My daughter and I like to walk to the factory store and pick out a few delights to enjoy after we get home: one per day, split and shared. (The other members of our household don't appreciate chocolate, so we don't give them any.)

The ganache-filled confections have fairly short shelf-lives and you may have to get them on site; there was an "eat by" date on the case that was less than two weeks from when we were standing there choosing (January 9). The chocolate with the white square and stripes is a lemon ganache.

The caramels go a bit longer and can be ordered online. The one with the single swooping line is a gingersnap caramel. That one with the diagonal dusting of reddish sprinkles is a ghost chile caramel. Yum.

Theo is one of very few chocolate producers in North America that roasts its own beans (Hershey's is another; Blommer is a third—the differences in scale between these organizations and Theo is significant). Theo is also the only roaster that is organic and the first to be Fair Trade. Most chocolate manufacturers get their chocolate already processed from the beans--in bulk, ready to melt and form into finished items. (There's a lengthy and fascinating PDF here about the cocoa-to-chocolate process.)

So we came home with our small stash of chocolates—eight, to be savored, one at a time.

And I found waiting for me there a package with a skein of Blacker Yarns' St Kilda laceweight yarn. It made me think immediately of the Theo chocolates: smooth, elegant, tasty, exquisitely prepared.

Let me tell you a little about this yarn, which is a tour-de-force accomplishment that I look forward to savoring as deliberately and carefully as I will the chocolates. Unfortunately, I have no idea how you can get a skein, because I can't locate it on the Blacker Yarns site, but simply knowing it exists shows what can happen when determination, energy, skill, experience, and vision combine.

Okay, I am waxing rhapsodic. There's a reason.

St Kilda is a cluster of islands in the North Atlantic Ocean west of the Scottish Outer Hebrides. No one lives there any more, although evidence of human (and sheep) habitation goes back thousands of years. Two rare breeds of sheep have their home bases on these tiny outcroppings of land, otherwise best known for geology and populations of birds: Soay (from the island of Soay and now also on the larger island of Hirta) and Boreray (from the island of the same name). Their histories are quite different, and I can't go into that much detail or this post will never get done. The association of the breeds with the place is the reason for the yarn's name.

Neither Soay nor Boreray sheep have been bred for consistent wool. Both grow a range of fibers from very fine to remarkably coarse, both within individual fleeces and throughout the flocks.

A couple of years ago, Jane Cooper and Sue Blacker began a project to gather Boreray fleeces from throughout the U.K. and make a commercially spun yarn available, as a very limited run. The goal was to show the shepherds that their wool has value and to show fiber artisans that this breed-specific fiber can be rewarding to work with. Boreray wool doesn't fare well in mixed-wool large-scale commercial operations because of its variability in color and texture. Jane drove all over to get the fleeces—a feat in itself. Then Sue's expertise and the capacities of her mill in Cornwall took over. They produced a wonderful, robust aran-weight yarn.

My concern about the project was that the fine wools that some Boreray sheep produce would be obscured by the blending process. Fortunately, there were a number of identifiable fine-wool Boreray fleeces, and Jane and Sue were aware of this potential issue. They kept aside a selection of the finest Borerays for separate processing.

The result is brilliant. Blacker Yarns blended fine Soay (also a wool that requires sorting at a level that often isn't feasible) with the fine Boreray and spun a delicate yet sturdy yarn that is like a fine ganache: the right flavors in the right proportions, so that each enhances the other, in this case spun to the correct weight and with appropriate amounts of both singles and plying twist.

Handspinners, you can do this—if you have the patience to pull it off. Most fiber mills wouldn't even dream of making a small, specialized run like this. Vision + experience = delicious.

____

Note 1: Apparently one yarn shop in Edinburgh bought the entire small batch of the St Kilda laceweight. There will be a follow-up run, using Shetland along with Soay and Boreray because there currently isn't enough of the latter wools in the right qualities to do a repeat of the first blend. I'm looking forward to seeing that, too—and grateful for the opportunity to enjoy special, short-run yarns now and then, even with the occasional disappointment of not being able to get more. Because who knows what we'll see in a future year?

Note 2: During the holidays, in fact, while I was traveling, someone wrote me through one electronic channel or other to ask if I could teach a workshop at a festival this year. With all the electronic forums out there, I can't remember which one and a lot of digging hasn't revealed the message. The weekend in question isn't an option, because I'm already booked (in fact, it looks like I'm fully booked for 2013 with a couple of commitments in 2014 already), but it would be nice if I could say so directly to the person who asked! If it was you, please get in touch again. Maybe we can consider 2014.

Note 3: I only teach at between four and six events a year. Getting the details squared away for 2013 has been an extended process because of family emergencies (and now I've come down with a post-holiday bug), but we'll soon have details up on the website at www.drobson.info. As a heads-up for this year, however, I will be teaching at the Maryland Sheep & Wool Festival; the Kentucky Sheep & Fiber Festival; and the Wisconsin Sheep & Wool Festival. I'm doing the Explore 4 workshop in Friday Harbor, Washington, in March (full, with a waiting list) and it looks very likely that I'll be doing a similar event on the east coast in the fall.

The 30th Spin-Off Autumn Retreat

Last week I took a quick trip to Granlibakken, in Tahoe City, California, to participate in a few days of the 30th Spin-Off Autumn Retreat, best known as SOAR. This post will consist mostly of a series of not-too-great but definitely on-the-scene photos, with captions.

SOAR began because Linda Ligon, who founded Interweave Press, thought that spinners needed their own gathering, not just to be the stepchildren at weavers' conferences.

At the time, Anne Bliss was the editor of Spin-Off magazine, which was transitioning from an annual publication supplemented by quarterly newsletters to the quarterly magazine it still is. (Spin-Off editors over its thirty-five years—the publication is five years older than SOAR—have been: Anne Bliss, Lee Raven, me, and Amy Clarke Moore.) I don't have photos of Anne or Lee handy.

Linda asked Dale Pettigrew to put the first event together, and Dale went on to become the SOAR coordinator as the gathering grew and moved around the country.

I came in at the fifth SOAR, which was bigger than the previous ones (because it was the fifth) and had the first real marketplace and added pre-retreat workshops as well. That was 1987. It worked so well that the market and additional offerings continued.

A lot of the event's spirit and practices were shaped by Dale. In 2008, she was in a bike accident. No one's exactly sure what happened, because there were no witnesses (she was found by a passerby on the ground next to her bike, on a bike trail), but she spent a month in a coma, including several weeks on a ventilator. She has had to slowly re-learn how to talk and walk. Initially, she thought she would never spin or weave or knit again.

But the brain and the spirit are both amazing, resilient things.

When the idea arose to get Dale to this big-anniversary SOAR, she had been spinning again for a while and had begun to weave once more, using a rigid heddle loom. Interweave and several individuals pitched in to get Dale to Granlibakken, with me as her traveling buddy. One of the biggest challenges turned out to be transporting a spinning wheel for her. She has two wheels, one of which is a Rick Reeves that needed to stay home. The one we needed to get to and from California was the first Louet S-90, which had been introduced at SOAR in Silver Bay, New York, in 1997 and signed by a bunch of folks there.

First we had to find a container large enough. We tried suitcases, and ended up finding U-Haul flat wardrobe boxes. Then we had to make that box fit within the allowable luggage dimensions for Southwest Airlines and reinforce it so it would be sturdy enough to fully protect the wheel. We ended up using two of the wardrobe boxes, one inside the other, cut down so that there was room enough to pad the wheel on the inside and yet had outside measurements within the airline's requirements. We ended up with an inch to spare on each critical constraint, and the wheel traveled in both directions unscathed.

It was snowy at Granlibakken (Dale and snow seem to go together), so we needed to rent a 4WD vehicle in Reno rather than the compact we'd reserved.

But there was so much warmth at SOAR! Here Dale and Jodie, a much-loved long-time SOAR participants, look through, and identify people in, one of the many SOAR albums. (I snapped the photos of Linda and Dale at the start of this post from one of these albums. They are from a very early year, but not the first.) Pat Wagner Thompson was the SOAR photographer for many years. We missed her!

The SOAR community extends over years and also across the globe. Richard Ashford is often there, and his wife Elizabeth got to come this year, too. Here they are with Jodie. (The handspun garments everywhere are enduring "friends" as well.)

I didn't get photos of so many people: Gord Lendrum and his wife, Linda; Selma Miriam; Charlene and Charlene; Stephenie; Jeannine; Kris. . . . the list goes on. We invoked the presence of many others by remembering them, and we also quietly welcomed new community members who were present for the first time.

A few long-timers attended in unusual forms. Here's Dale (center) with instructor Maggie Casey and wheel-maven Cindy Lair, whom sometimes is able to be at SOAR three-dimensionally. (In the background that's Maggie Reinholtz, who started out as a member of the events staff a while ago but I hear got to participate in a workshop as well this time!)

SOAR is more a community than a conference, and a lot of the reason that's the case is Dale Pettigrew. She set and maintained a tone that still imbues the event.

On Thursday night, I gave a talk on rare-breed wools. . . . 

. . . after which we got Dale up there to talk. This is Amy Clarke Moore, Spin-Off editor; Dale, wearing a gorgeous sweater made and given to her by frequent SOAR participant Paula Shull, who unfortunately wasn't there; and me.

The gallery and the market were wonderful. I have about forty snapshots from the gallery, one of which I want to share here. This is Lundie Robb's "shepherdess and friend," made from rare wools and absolutely exquisite. Talk about capturing the joy of the craft, its history, present, and future:

What joy there is at SOAR throughout the gallery and the market and the dining room and in the workshops and walking through the halls!

It all started with a seed of an idea, grown for thirty years into a sturdy connection around the globe and, now, across generations.

Thanks to those who began this group adventure: Linda and Anne and Lee and, most of all, Dale.

And to everyone else who has participated, or thought about participating, or will be joining the community in the future. It might be snowing outside, but it's plenty warm when we gather together to spin and learn.

_____

Long before I came on the scene, Dale found a poem by Pamela Kelly that has served as a touchstone for SOAR since its beginning:

AS I SPIN . . . 

As I spin,
I watch the fibers
Twist
Assuming a stronger character.
I reflect on the twists
I have endured today. . . .

As I spin,
I think of other
people—
a parade of a thousand
years.
Meditating
hour after hour
at the spinning.

I, like Gandhi,
fold up my wheel
and carry it with me
to the meeting place.

           —Pamela Kelly

_____

Footnotes:

Thanks to Kris Paige for wielding my camera at critical moments.

Interweave, the company that sponsors SOAR, has been sold twice in fairly recent years. Seven years ago it was sold to Aspire Media. About three months ago, Aspire (including Interweave) was acquired by F&W Media. It's not clear what effect this may have on future SOARs. There have been some layoffs, predominantly in departments other than editorial. The events staff will be changing. The spirit of SOAR will continue, although it may need special care and nurturing to weather the newest transitions.

Book review: Pure Wool by Sue Blacker

Sue Blacker is wise in the ways of wool, especially with regard to making high-quality yarns from special batches of fleece, including many from rare breeds of sheep that live in the British Isles. She has written us a lovely book that features single-breed yarns, specifically those made at her mill in Cornwall. If you don't know about these yarns, you will want to discover them.

Because I want you to appreciate the unique genius of Sue's Pure Wool: A Guide to Using Single-Breed Yarns, just released, let me begin by telling you about my major quibbles with it. If you are alerted to these at the start, you can get on with the business of enjoying the book's substantial benefits without wondering exactly how many small typos and other bothersome glitches have been allowed to slip through and get into print. The answer to that is: too many. The project would have been greatly improved if the publisher had paid closer attention to copyediting and proofreading. This applies to both the text and the patterns. These matters are important enough that I'd recommend that some ability to independently troubleshoot a pattern be considered a prerequisite for working the designs; that should be sufficient, and they are appealing, so if you have this, go for it. I plan to. The index is also rudimentary. While I generally like the unusual choice of doing color printing on uncoated (not-shiny) paper, in some cases—and this is one of them—crucial images, especially those with dark components (like black fabrics), lose all their detail. A number of finished products are shown for which the source patterns are neither included nor referenced. All these matters are significant; I suggest that you determine not to let them keep you from this book.

So now let's talk about the good stuff, of which there is plenty.

Sue's unique body of knowledge, and what that brings to this book

Sue Blacker began with sheep (Gotlands, which she still has) and then bought a fiber mill, called The Natural Fibre Company. Sue is a wizard at using the mill's equipment to make well-constructed breed-specific yarns, spun either woolen or worsted, available to people who want to experience these fibers without making handspun. Obviously, I'm a spinner. In a way, that makes me even more appreciative of the quality of the yarns produced by The Natural Fibre Company, especially those that are produced under the mill's own label, Blacker Yarns, and are featured in this book. (It's not necessary to have access to or to use Blacker Yarns to get a lot out of the book or its patterns.)

Sue knows a lot about value added: the multiple techniques available to shepherds through which they can increase the financial return they see from their animals' fiber. This is critical to the humans' ability to continue raising the sheep. Whether the value-added chain involves turning the fiber into neatly spun and packaged yarns ready to be worked on crafters' needles or the production of finished objects—blankets, socks, all-natural garden twine, and more*—Sue and The Natural Fibre Company help owners of small flocks in Britain increase their incomes. She also offers consultations to other small mills on how to process challenging fibers into predictable, practical, pleasant yarns.

       * Bookmark for the holidays!

For yarn-users, Sue provides a guide to enjoying materials that are not generic (I might add to my description "that are not bland"). She has an intimate understanding of a number of breed-specific wools grown in Britain, of their processing on the small-mill scale (the only way to keep the breed identities distinct), and of how to make good use of the resulting yarns, with their distinctive and sometimes challenging characteristics. (As a bonus, she lightly seasons her comments with her delightfully wry sense of humor.)

Here are some of Sue's observations on spinning single-breed yarns in small commercial batches [my comment in brackets]: "Where a wool is very rare or pretty good as it is [meaning not blended or dyed], we have suggested leaving well alone!" (p. 133) and "As the Wool Qualities and Yarn Types chart . . . shows, soft wools do not necessarily make fine or drapey yarns, and coarse wools do not inevitably have to be consigned to the Aran section. Also a luster wool will be considerably denser than a non-luster, so will make very heavy garments if used as a worsted-spun yarn, in chunky weight, or for larger items. In fact, it is better to use woolen-spun, semi-luster, or non-luster yarns for these" (p. 134).

Her appreciation for the fibers' individuality imbues every page. While other people may make other choices in handling the fibers, of course, Sue offers her experienced opinions firmly and with supporting reasons: "North Ronaldsay makes a soft 4-ply if de-haired of its coarse hairs but loses its character—better to use Shetland" (p. 135). From her viewpoint, based on having processed a more wool than most of us could imagine even seeing in a lifetime, she considers blending, yarn weights, and applications for unusual wools, as well as dyeing for good results on wools that have natural colors to start with. 

If you want to be convinced beyond a doubt that Sue knows what she's doing, order sample skeins of a number of the Blacker Yarns offerings and make swatches or fingerless mitts. I've got an ongoing project of doing just that, and it's always a pleasure to pull out a skein spun at The Natural Fibre Company and cast on. One of my favorite discoveries has been the Herdwick, overdyed. Herdwick is one of the least mainstream-familiar yarns to use. In Pure Wool, Herdwick gets equal time with the more familiar, and more pliable, Bluefaced Leicester. Thank you, Sue.

Breeds covered

For each breed, there is an introductory segment about the sheep and the wool. The sample shown here is the Hebridean.

These are the breeds in the book, with links to a few of the yarns spun from these breeds that are currently available through Blacker Yarns:

• Black Welsh Mountain
• Bluefaced Leicester
• Castlemilk Moorit
• Corriedale/Falklands (explained as a Falkland Islands–sourced wool with a lot of Corriedale in its genetic background)
• Cotswold
• Galway
• Gotland
• Hebridean (in blends)
• Herdwick
• Jacob
• Manx Loaghtan
• North Ronaldsay
• Romney
• Ryeland
• Shetland
• Zwartbles

Patterns

Following the breed information is information on using the wool, including a pattern—or two or three, if small. This is a pattern for a shoulderbag made with the Hebridean wool shown in the previous example:

The designs offer classic-but-interesting approaches to making useful items, with information on why a particular breed's wool was chosen for the project.

In many of the patterns, the introductory description covers variations: changing breeds, combinations of yarns, needle sizes, and structures to individualize the final results. This sort of creative approach to the craft may alarm beginners, but it's how intermediate to advanced knitters think. Any nudging in this direction is all to the good, and beginners will benefit from choosing one of the simpler projects and experimenting with customization.

At least eight photographs are included of items for which instructions are not in the book. The good news is that I've tracked down patterns for most of them (or for patterns that sure look like they'd produce the same or very similar results) by digging around on the Blacker Yarns website. In case other readers find the items shown in these images as appealing as I do, here are the results of my quest:

• p. 27: The Bluefaced Leicester vest was made with the Jester Waistcoat pattern.
• pp. 34, 60, and 125: The vests made from Castlemilk Moorit, Gotland, and Zwartbles appear to be variations on the V- or Round-neck Sleeveless Slipover/Tunic (vest) pattern.
• p. 91: The Manx Loaghtan cardigan is the Chevron Cardigan.
• p. 98: I kind of struck out on the North Ronaldsay vests shown on this page (and there is a North Ronaldsay waistcoat, or vest, pattern given in the book, but it's not like the vests on p. 98). Something relatively similar to the vests on p. 98, albeit with fancier patterning, could be made from the Diamond Cluster Fitted Waistcoat pattern.
• p. 111: The Ryeland pullover was the first item I went looking for, even though I'd probably draft my own version, and I found it (modeled as sized with a good deal more ease than in the book's photo) in the Cable Panel Unisex Pullover.
• p. 117: That Shetland kids' pullover is the Child's Henley Sweater pattern.

It would be very handy to have this information in the book.

For the designs that do appear in the book, the printing choices obscure the detail on photos of the dark-colored items, and the pattern instructions reside in a stylistic realm somewhere between British and North American conventions. Those with moderate familiarity with both systems will do fine. The sizing designations don't conform either to Craft Yarn Council of America standards or to so-called US standard clothing sizing, with at least one tempting garment (the Pucker Cable Tunic, from Galway yarn) having wandered closer to the vanity-oriented catalog sizing realm in which I am a 4 or 6, which is absurd, and makes me wonder what small people wear: size 0000? So ignore the so-called size designations and head straight for the body and finished-garment measurements; that's the only sizing that matters in any pattern, in any case. Some of the schematics don't match the knitting instructions, so either use those with caution or skim past them as well.

The huge strength of the patterns is in the coordination between the qualities of the individual wools and the items designed to be made from them. The comments on how the items were designed are worth reading, even if you never knit any of these things—although I am strongly drawn to:

• the Scallop Shell Top by Rita Taylor (Bluefaced Leicester),
• that Pucker Cable Tunic by Amanda Crawford (Galway) (the one with the down-skewed size designations),
• the Long Cardigan with Hand-Warmer Pockets by Myra Mortlock and Sue Blacker (Gotland, although for such a great winter-jacket design I'd use the optional buttons or a zipper),
• the Fall Leaves Beret by Rita Taylor (Gotland, and the photos miss the design's most interesting aspects—which I figured out by reading the pattern, those being the leaf forms at the juncture between the crown and the ribbing),
• the Hebridean Handbag by Sue Blacker (guess the breed!),
• that Ryeland pullover noted above in the missing-patterns section,
• the Ryeland Child's Hooded Jacket by Myra Mortlock and Sue Blacker (another breed-guessing occasion), and
• the Climbing Vine Cardigan by Sian Brown (Zwartbles, but there's a much clearer photo of the design, knitted in Jacob, on p. 82).

For me, that's a huge number of patterns having immediate appeal in a single book. And on another pass-through six months from now, I might come up with an entirely different selection. There's a Guernsey pullover by Sue Blacker (Romney) and a color-pattern vest by Sasha Kagan (Shetland) that are already exerting a certain amount of pull.

Supplementary sections

The front and the back of the book contain general information, called "Pure Wool Basics" in the front and "Pure Wool Practicals" in the back. The information in the back is meatier, giving insight into the breeds covered from different angles and incorporating three charts that consider wool characteristics and qualities from the small-mill perspective, and a visual representation of suggested substitutions between breeds for the patterns in the book. The dark red indicates the breed suggested in the book; other breeds Sue considers as appropriate substitutions get progressively lighter with their decreasing suitability.

There's also a chart on natural colors along with general thoughts about dyeing these fibers. It does not include information on using any specific types of dyes, but the overview and way of thinking about dyeing apply to any type of supplementary coloring.

The "Wool terminology" and "Yarn terminology" (front of book) and "Knitting know-how" (back of book) sections appear to have been put together quickly and could have been made more useful with appropriate editorial guidance.

In sum

There's a tremendous amount of unusual and intriguing information in Pure Wool.  If you like breed-specific fibers and yarns, it will be a fine addition to your library, despite the shortfalls in the editorial processing and production. Although I was provided with a review copy of the book by the publisher at the author's request, that obviously has not influenced (and never would affect) what I have to say. I would have happily purchased a personal copy—and would have paid significantly more than the US$19.95 cover price for a book that had been edited more thoroughly.

There is excellent material here. I would have liked to have seen it fully honored in its presentation.

Forewarned, do seek out Pure Wool for all that it does provide.

Craftsy online class: Know Your Wool

A while back, Liz Gipson, who was an assistant editor of Spin-Off after my years at Interweave Press, asked if I'd consider presenting an online class through a new outfit called Craftsy.com. Because I know and like Liz, I said okay, not really knowing what I was getting myself into.

It turned out to be enjoyable and, I think, really useful, even though it involved having me make it look like I was calm and coherent in front of a camera (not one of an introvert's usual top skills). The fact that Liz was the producer and the studio folks were fantastic helped a lot.

The course was released a couple of days ago: it's called "Know Your Wool." I love that it's free—Craftsy offers free courses as a way to introduce people to the platform, which is unique, innovative, and very interesting. There are videos, downloadable materials, and easy ways to take notes, ask questions, and have discussions. In the case of the free courses, the instructors aren't required to participate in the discussions, although I've been doing that and will continue to check in from time to time, as my schedule permits.

Here's the introductory screen for people who have already signed up:

As the instructor, I'm considered already signed up {wry grin}.

If you decide to check it out, let me know what you think. The lessons are between about 10 and about 20 minutes long. Even when I got the alert that I needed to proofread the onscreen type within twenty-four hours (with several other imminent deadlines), I was able to fit the viewing into odd moments during the day and get done in time.

Also, if there are other things you'd like me to teach in an online format, let me know. I had a great time and am contemplating what to do next.

As time permits, I'll be giving the back story here on the several pieces that I made to demonstrate the concepts that I talked about in the lessons. They include the Suffolk sweater, the Merino cowl, the Bluefaced Leicester socks, and the Wensleydale socks that weren't completely finished when we were in the studio preparing the course but as of yesterday only need to be washed and blocked.

Craftsy on Twitter is @beCraftsy.

On Facebook, they've got pages at craftsy, FiberArtsClub, and KnittingClub.

On YouTube: beCraftsy.

Lovely Lincoln Longwools, Estes Park Wool Market, and Craftsy.com

Last weekend I was at the Estes Park Wool Market both days. On Saturday, I went up with friends, to do some scouting for the video work scheduled for Sunday in conjunction with a course I'm doing for Craftsy.com. I'd already connected with some of the folks we would be visiting with for the filming, but needed to get a sense of what else was happening that we might need to know about. My reconnaissance was cut short because Saturday was the first day of the High Park Fire and as it grew (we could watch it), we needed to get back down the mountain. We had a good time, cut short.

Sunday, however, when the video crew assembled, we had a fantastic day. It was really windy, which made for some shooting challenges. I also kept an eye on the growing fire, although it was good to have work to distract me from what was happening in the mountains just north of us, closer to home. We got great interviews and video that will become part of the course, which should go live on Craftsy.com in July. I'll let folks know when that happens. It will be called "Know Your Wool," and it's about getting past the seduction of color (which is almost overwhelming) and softness (which is immediately appealing, too) to understand the fiber inside pure-wool yarns and to improve the knitter's (weaver's, crocheter's, other thread-bender's) ability to select the RIGHT wool for a project, and have more fun and more success with wool yarns.

Well. That was cumbersome to say, even if accurate. It's about wool. I like wool. There are lots of different kinds. Sometimes softness isn't what you need. Once you've picked the right wool, it can be made any color you want it to be. I think of the course as being about looking INSIDE the yarn and learning to tell the differences—like between pasteurized process cheese, mild cheddar, and asiago or brie.

Did I mention that viewers will be able to access the course free? Most of the Craftsy courses are paid products (reasonably priced), but the Craftsy folks are also making open-access offerings to introduce people to the idea of their platform, which is new and interactive and really cool. I talked to someone the other day who had signed up for a Craftsy course and was initially disappointed that she couldn't download it, like a normal CD thing—and then realized that there were so many extras involved that downloading would only provide her with part of the experience offered by the platform. There are downloadable support materials, but the courses as a whole involve a lot of other components that require the web. Yes, a decent internet connection is required. But this is fascinatingly cutting-edge stuff, and it's fun to be a part of.

Especially since we got to go to the wool market.

I didn't have many chances to take photos while we were there, because that wasn't my job, although I snapped a few and a friend sent me a couple that she'd taken. (I didn't even see her—that's how busy we were!)

We interviewed some of the shepherds who were participating in the National Lincoln Longwool Show and Sale. It was an incredible treat to have this show happen within reach of the video crew! I do love Lincolns. (I wrote a whole article about them for the Spring 2012 issue of Spin-Off magazine.)

We also interviewed Joanna Gleason, of Gleason's Fine Woolies, who raises Bond and Corriedale sheep. These breeds developed from crosses of Lincoln with Merino.

Working with Lincolns and Bonds for the video gave us the opportunity to offer a terrific view of one aspect of breed development and to provide dramatically different perspectives into sheep husbandry. And the shepherds with whom we were able to spend time are folks from whom I always learn something new.

Despite my lack of photo-taking time, this post will contain a lot of pictures.

Border collies really like to work.

The sheep that Border collie thought needed to be watched were Columbias, which are really big (and a breed that provided one of the yarns I used as a demo in the course). I really don't think the sheep were planning to get out of line, but the dog was making sure they didn't.

As I mentioned, having the National Lincoln Longwool Show and Sale at the wool market this year was a real treat for me. Very early in our visit to the fairgrounds on Sunday we saw this exceptionally handsome ram.

When I caught sight of him, I was looking for Christiane Payton, of North Valley Farm in Yamhill, Oregon. When Carol Ekarius and I were working on The Fleece and Fiber Sourcebook, Christiane helped me out with samples that let me represent Lincoln wool in all its colorful variety. I also was able to visit her flock on a road trip: that was a treat! 

And there was Christiane, keeping a pen of Lincolns company. Including that ram.

The photo above shows some of the great people I got to visit with that day. On the left, in the red jacket, is Christine Bazant, who bought the ram and would be taking him back to her flock in Oregon. In the dark green shirt is Brian Larson, from whose flock in Michigan the ram originated. In the light blue jacket is Christiane, who brought some of her beautiful colored sheep to the show and sale (I have a photo of one of them later in this post). And the woman in the blue shirt with all the equipment slung in bags on her shoulder is Liz Gipson, a former assistant editor of Spin-Off (after my time) and creator of books and DVDs on rigid heddle weaving.

Liz is the producer of the "Know Your Wool" Craftsy course that we were working on. She asked me to do it, and because I like her and thought it sounded like a cool idea, I said okay. Even though it meant getting in front of a camera myself (and talking and being recorded while there).

I love watching animal judging, especially with a good judge—as was the case on Sunday. Here he's evaluating our friend the ram, being shown by new owner Chris Bazant. (I only discovered the ram's identifying number, not his name. I suspect he has a name, and I look forward to knowing it.)

The judge liked what he saw.

The sheep had some commentary about being tied up and ignored in the barn. He was scheduled to be shorn that afternoon, and we were working out the timing issues for some video work. He was, I think, BORED.

One of my favorite parts of the day was talking with Brian and Christiane about their Lincolns while we had the white ram and one of Christiane's colored rams with us. (The colored sheep had been shown on Saturday, so he was just hanging out with us.) Thanks to Theresa Meyer for this photo.

Here's another of Christiane's ram, although you can see more of his character in the photo above. He's a very mellow fellow.

Shearing a Lincoln ram is not a job for an amateur. There's a lot of mass, muscle, and intelligence. It's a good thing the shearer on site at the festival is a pro! Here's Brian talking about how they'd like the ram's topknot to stay in place, with shearing to happen from the ears back.

It's a lot of sheep to manage, and the shearer's skill is apparent in the ram's relaxed face. As you could see above when he was tied up, he would have complained if he'd been unhappy.

Ideally, the fleece will come off in one piece. The shearer follows a pattern and takes it off very methodically, shifting the sheep's position and his own grip as he proceeds. Lincoln locks, being long and relatively low in grease, tend to only loosely maintain their sheep-shape as a whole fleece as they're removed.

Chris showed the ram his fleece when the job was done, and he seemed pretty curious about the whole thing, although he obviously felt lighter. Given the weather, it was probably pretty pleasant for him to be no longer wearing about 20 pounds (9kg) of wool, handsome though he was while he had it on. (He'll grow more.) Thanks to Theresa Meyer for this photo, too!

Then we went over to the vendors'  barn to talk with Joanna Gleason, although I don't have any photos of that. Some of the other folks may have had their cameras out, and if I can connect with anyone who documented that part of our trip, I'll share more in a future post. Otherwise, there will be video in the Craftsy course when it's available in July!

The video for the rest of the course was shot in Denver. On Wednesday, I drove to the city and stayed in a hotel so I wouldn't have to get up at 5 a.m. to be up the Craftsy studio for makeup at 7:45 a.m. We worked up the rest of the course between then and about 6:15 p.m., after which we went to the Craftsy offices for a meeting with all the other people who are involved in making the course happen and getting the word out. Yes, that meeting started at 6:30 p.m. Following that, a couple of us went back to the studio to pack up my demo supplies and all the clothes I had to bring (I wore something different for each lesson). I was home by a little before 10, and ready for dinner!

It was a positive experience throughout. The team was great. I look forward to seeing what they do with the materials we generated: it's all editing and presentation now. Out of my hands.

Maryland Sheep & Wool Festival 2012

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

At least for a few days.

Shipping wool internationally

Carol Ekarius, co-author with me of The Fleece and Fiber Sourcebook, was our primary coordinator of obtaining samples that I then analyzed, washed, recorded, and spun. Therefore she's the one who needed to figure out the logistics and legalities of moving wool, in the quantities we needed, across various types of boundaries.

She wrote up her findings. I've added some links and the 2012 update of countries' Foot and Mouth Disease (FMD) status; the need to prevent the spread of FMD is the reason for caution in transferring animal products between countries.

In short: It's easy to ship wool. You can make it VERY easy by knowing what the regulations are and putting a couple of extra sheets of paper inside your package. For the most part, the papers aren't necessary and the wool goes through without a hitch (as it should). But we're all about preventing problems, whenever possible. (Moving meat products across borders is a whole different issue.)

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Getting Your Raw Wool Fix from Far Away:
Or, importing raw fleeces to where you call home from foreign ports of call. . . .

by Carol Ekarius, co-author of The Fleece & Fiber Sourcebook

I have seen a few questions popping up in places where people are talking about The Fleece and Fiber Sourcebook that go something like, “Now I am finding out about all these breeds, I’d like to be able to [buy/sell] fleeces to or from [fill in the name of a locale]. Can I order them from overseas and have them shipped in, or are there issues with importing raw wool?”

I actually looked into this somewhat as we were working on the book thanks to a conversation I had with Tim Booth, our wonderful friend at the British Wool Marketing Board (BWMB). Tim went above and beyond the call of duty to (with the help of some other BWMB staff) get us many fleece samples and photos for some tougher-to-find British breeds. He said that BWMB was a bit cautious about sending fleeces to the United States because they sometimes got held up at customs, and occasionally rejected. Rejects got shipped back, which cost a bunch of money on what is still a low-value commodity overall.

Was I familiar with the regulations? he asked me.

“Not offhand, but I’ll find out,” I responded.

Importing to the United States

I called the Animal Plant Health Inspection Service of the United States Department of Agriculture (it’s called APHIS for short). I was quickly connected with a veterinarian who said it is fine to import wool from many countries, as long as it isn’t covered in blood or manure. He explained that there are countries where Foot and Mouth Disease (FMD) is active, and those countries have a few more considerations that have to be taken into account, but those that are FMD-free—including the United Kingdom—should not be a problem.

I told him Tim’s story of shipments that were turned around by U.S. Customs, and he said sometimes the customs agents, who actually do the inspections, may not understand the rules regarding wool. He told me to check out the Animal Product Manual chapter on Hides and Related Byproducts and he suggested that I send Tim the link with a note to check tables 3.7.14 through 3.7.17 (these charts are available at our Fleece & Fiber website), and he also suggested that the best way to ensure that customs agents know what to do is to include a written statement (see the sample) that this was raw wool from a healthy animal from an FMD-free country (notarized if you are concerned about validating fully), and include the table that shows the customs agent that he or she should release the fleece from customs with no problem so long as it is free from blood.

Lo and behold, these tables are a great resource. They help quickly clarify the process for fibers coming into the United States from FMD-free or FMD-troubled countries. Blood and excess manure are to be diligently avoided, but if you are buying fleece for handspinning, you sure as heck want it to be well skirted, and there should never be any appreciable blood stains on a fleece from a well-sheared critter.

So, if someone in an FMD-free country (list at the bottom of this post) wants to sell wool to someone in the United States, copy the first chart (3.7.14) and include it in the package, along with your statement that this is raw wool from [type of animal] (usually sheep, but could be goat, musk ox, yak, alpaca, or other ungulate not protected as a threatened and endangered species), grown in an FMD-free country. If you are in an FMD-troubled country, include the appropriate chart, and no matter which chart you are using, use a yellow highlighter to emphasize the correct decision mode.

Here's a link to the APHIS publication listing foreign countries and their disease status (including FMD) as of January 2012. It's the resource from which we developed the list included in this post. If you are reading that original APHIS document, note that some requirements (marked FMD/SR) apply to meat-based products only.

Exporting from the United States

This gets a bit more complicated for me, because each country has its own rules, but for European Union (EU) countries, I can define the current status. On February 25, 2011, the EU Commission adopted Regulation No. 142/2011, which allows that “fully treated” hair or wool can be imported into the EU countries from the U.S. and no documentation or APHIS approval is required. The U.S.-based exporter should have the European importer confirm in advance with the Border Inspection Post (BIP), through which the product will enter the EU, that the hair/wool is considered fully treated. In general hair/wool is considered by the EU to be fully treated if the wool/hair has undergone factory washing or been obtained as a by-product of the tanning of hides/skins. Hair or wool that is not “fully treated” doesn’t require shipment certification either, but it must be shipped from a U.S. facility that has been inspected and approved by APHIS Veterinary Services to ship untreated hair/wool to the EU. You can find a list of these facilities at https://webgate.ec.europa.eu/sanco/traces/output/listsPerActivity_en.htm#

The other suggestion from the U.S. veterinarian is to contact the relevant country's agricultural service (in Britain, this is DEFRA, the Department of Environment, Food and Rural Affairs, and ask if they need an import permit. He also suggested that you can check with United States embassy in your country and ask for the trade or import/export department, which may be able to help.

—Carol Ekarius