Her name is Nutmeg, but usually we refer to her as The Queen.
She is regal in every way, and so wary of people I've honestly only touched her a handful of times.
Aloof.
Royal.
Proud.
We chose her for her wool, impossibly soft, dense and fluffy. It starts out black but fades in the sun to a deep chocolate brown as the year progresses.
I was excited to get started on my first sheep-to-sweater project when we adopted our first ewes, but stalled out after trying to wash a dirty fleece in our bathtub and hopelessly clogging the drain before I was even half done.
Oops.
So the fleeces went back to the basement until Match. Finally when the spring warmed up I was able to scour them outside in buckets and dry them in the sun. And honestly it was a messy, wet, dirty, and fragrant job - yet inexplicably satisfying. I was cleaning my own wool!
Soon with the help of my trusty friend YouTube (this new farming family's school of choice) I learned how to card and roll rolags.
We were off and running.
I spend much of last weekend carding and spinning Nutmeg's wool into yarn. Some day this yarn will become a sweater of vest or mittens or something exceptionally special for one of us. I'm leaning toward a hoodie for Sage. The color is perfect.
But before that happens there is more to be done. More carding. More spinning. And finally plying the yarn and setting the twist. I don't expect to cast on before fall.
Since shearing last month I somehow have twelve fleeces to work with. Twelve giant bags overflowing with wool.
Oh. My.
I think it's time to get busy.
I can hardly wait.
Nutmeg, however, is just wondering where her warm and wooly coat has gone.
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