I am nothing if not a weekend goof off. Well, usually I can pull it together and work hard through Saturday, but by Sunday, playing the piano at church is about as much as you can count on out of me. Apparently today it's even less.
Now, to be fair (and list my excuses), I didn't get as much sleep as I'd have liked last night. Because all the fences but one were still tacky with black paint yesterday and I didn't want to risk any "war paint" on my ready to be shorn fleeces, we left the sheep out in the unpainted front field.
This field is not fenced with diamond mesh (tightly woven wire that we hope keeps dogs and such away from our sheep), so is not a super safe place for them to spend the night. We don't have a guardian dog, so I decided to play the part.
Now this would have been pretty darn fun a few nights ago, but it was 29 last night. I do have decent camping gear, but found 29 in an open sided shed to be much colder than 29 in a cozy backpacking tent. However, after getting up around midnight to procure a second sleeping bag, I was fine. Saint Tim had decided to camp with me (which was sweet), but got to snoring in the cold air so much that the sheep were complaining about not being to sleep (what do sheep count to try to sleep?) so I suggested maybe he should go back to the house. I do have to admit I was a little jealous.
However, this morning as I peeked out of my bag to watch the sun rise and the sheep rise and listen to the chickens rise, it was all worth it. And to leave you with a final vision of camping in the barn - after all the sheep were up, I turned to see that they were all standing together staring at me. On a funny note, Ewen was scared. He came as close as he could talk himself into, but I think he was worried that something (my sleeping bag) had eaten me.
So, back to what I was doing instead of cleaning the house...
I've borrowed a Patrick Green Triple Picker from a friend and have been trying to get the rest of the Wensleydale/Cotswold fleece finished up as a test. In my defense, the wool is all over the floor and really does need to be cleaned up. That's how it started - with cleaning! Then I thought "I'll sit down and spin for just a wee bit (quick "fix")". So I did.
And then I thought, sitting next to the pile of picked wool with still some locks showing, "wonder what it would look like if I spun some of that and plied it with the first bit of spinning." So I did.
And this is what it looks like.
And, if you look very closely, you'll notice that I have at least set out Saint Tim's jacket for the evening.
Now, to be fair (and list my excuses), I didn't get as much sleep as I'd have liked last night. Because all the fences but one were still tacky with black paint yesterday and I didn't want to risk any "war paint" on my ready to be shorn fleeces, we left the sheep out in the unpainted front field.
This field is not fenced with diamond mesh (tightly woven wire that we hope keeps dogs and such away from our sheep), so is not a super safe place for them to spend the night. We don't have a guardian dog, so I decided to play the part.
Now this would have been pretty darn fun a few nights ago, but it was 29 last night. I do have decent camping gear, but found 29 in an open sided shed to be much colder than 29 in a cozy backpacking tent. However, after getting up around midnight to procure a second sleeping bag, I was fine. Saint Tim had decided to camp with me (which was sweet), but got to snoring in the cold air so much that the sheep were complaining about not being to sleep (what do sheep count to try to sleep?) so I suggested maybe he should go back to the house. I do have to admit I was a little jealous.
However, this morning as I peeked out of my bag to watch the sun rise and the sheep rise and listen to the chickens rise, it was all worth it. And to leave you with a final vision of camping in the barn - after all the sheep were up, I turned to see that they were all standing together staring at me. On a funny note, Ewen was scared. He came as close as he could talk himself into, but I think he was worried that something (my sleeping bag) had eaten me.
So, back to what I was doing instead of cleaning the house...
I've borrowed a Patrick Green Triple Picker from a friend and have been trying to get the rest of the Wensleydale/Cotswold fleece finished up as a test. In my defense, the wool is all over the floor and really does need to be cleaned up. That's how it started - with cleaning! Then I thought "I'll sit down and spin for just a wee bit (quick "fix")". So I did.
And then I thought, sitting next to the pile of picked wool with still some locks showing, "wonder what it would look like if I spun some of that and plied it with the first bit of spinning." So I did.
And this is what it looks like.
And, if you look very closely, you'll notice that I have at least set out Saint Tim's jacket for the evening.
3 comments:
Oh My! So this is the rest of the story! I was wonderinghow you managed to survive the night with the sheep! Now you know how the shepherds felt and the Holy Family in the stable! All you needed was some angels singing Alleluia. The wool you wove together has intriguing colors to it. It will be fun to see what you can create with this combination. Hope you got any excess fleece off of Tim's suit before he donned it!
Oh I just love the word picture you created in describing getting up and having all your sheep staring at you, and watching the sunrise. I now want to go camp out in the barnyard. Sigh...
It was definitely a "while shepherds watched their flocks by night" moment. If it hadn't been so bloody cold I would have loved it. I think I will have to give it another try when it warms up as it *did* have it's attractions. And I forgot to dehair Tim's jacket, but it looked like most of the fuzz was not related to this yarn story ;-).
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