With Maisie feeling a little better today, I took a few minutes to stop in the Wool House this afternoon before I did evening chores to pull down some of Woolliam's curls to test blend with Marcel's roving. That I was so sure was there. Already washed and processed. In a big bag on the right hand side of the loft. Right?
Right??
Please???
That I sold back last spring.
When I never dreamed that favorite sheep wouldn't live forever.
I'm hoping the spinner who purchased his fleece is a blog reader and might see this. And maybe hasn't already used it. And would be interested in selling it back to me.
It would mean the world to me.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
If you sit down in the barn sobbing, Hank will come over and wash your face just like he used to wash Marcel's. It only helps a little, but oh, such a sweet dog.
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