Coming Up For Air...

My world has become very, very small these days. I wash fleece, I sleep. If I remember, then I eat something. Otherwise, it's all washing and sleeping. The whole cycle is occasionally broken up by a rousing round of Keep The Smaller, Less Fluffy Kitty Out Of The Drying Wool. That is something of a treat, really. Shakes things up a bit...

By necessity brought on by lack of space, I tend to wash fleeces in small lots. To get it done quickly and reduce the amount of Eau de Barn in the condo, I do this pretty much continuously until the job is done. And, as I have something of an uneasy relationship with lanolin, I generally don't do much sorting before washing. I get as much of the grease out as possible, then deal with the stuff that doesn't belong there.

But, after the first batch came out of the rinse water and was resting in the windows to dry, it became clear to me that I would need to change things up a bit. This wool did not come from a spinner's flock. It is mere happenstance that allowed so many of us to get our greedy little hands on this lovely stuff. As I looked at the washed wool, I thought to myself:

You know...this sheep didn't have a Mommy Sheep like I did. There was no one to tell her to wear her coat or stay out of the mud puddles. She roamed about essentially unsupervised and doing pretty much as she pleased. A simple bath is not going to do the trick here...

So, I broke out the flick carder. I rarely use this tool because I tend to get a little overenthusiastic and hurt my thumb. But, this really seemed to be the weapon of choice for this battle. And the difference was clear when the second round of fiber was spread out to dry. My path was set. Flick, sort, wash, dry. That was the determined sequence.

It'll save me a lot of work later. But has added hours to the washing time. I lasted until 1:00 this morning before fatigue brought everything to a crashing halt. It's been a while since I've had a whole fleece with which to play. I'd forgotten the amount of work that goes into the process. But, it gives the term, "labor of love" new meaning. It is worth every sore muscle or accidentally flicked finger.

And it puts other time-stealers into perspective, that's for sure.

The endless plying and detangling with the misbehaving skeins of the lamb/silk blend? Child's play!!!

I am nearing the end of the merino fleece. In fact, it is my sworn mission to wash the last lock before I rest my weary head on the pillow for the night. That will leave the Shetland lamb, which has been patiently waiting its turn and which, I suspect, will be an easier wash-up.

Good thing. Tomorrow night will be another night of the socialization training for The Sheep. I will wash the last remaining scent of the barn from my person and head over to the CamMad household for a fun-filled evening of dining and kid-wrangling. My cute little Nieces By Proxy will provide the entertainment and the Mom of the household will serve up the meal. Normally this is the Dad's duty at the CamMad house...but there was an "incident" of sorts which has left him couch-bound for a while. More on that later...it's a good story. Every mother who has ever told her children, "don't come running to me if you cut off your toes with the lawn mower" will feel highly vindicated.

Wear your coat...stay out of the mud puddles...don't play with the lawn mower...listening to Mom can really save a lot of time and trouble in the long run.

Back to washing the Motherless Merino.

SA