Living in the Pacific Northwest, I find that I can wear wool pretty much year-round. And I do. More layers in the winter, fewer in the summer.
I began to knit my life away about 6 years ago, and had a lot of fun yarn shopping and acquiring a fairly decent yarn stash for a time.
But then on of my knitting buddies upped the ante. She mentioned a family-friend sheep connection. The gist: Romney lawnmowers. 4H award- winning fleece. Family has no interest in/use for the wool. Wool going to waste unless someone wants to learn to spin it. (YeeGads!)
And there you have it. The next day I bought a drop spindle. And that was that. Skirting, Washing, Dying, Carding Spinning (hopefully soon combing!). That’s my idea of a good time.
I find that folks are sometimes a little bit weirded out by how excited I get over a bag of greasy fleece right off the sheep.
Especially the really good stuff. Yeah- you know what I’m talking about. Beautiful lustrous crimpy locks. It’s like a drug or something.
Anyway, enough about me.
Lets talk wool.