Tuesday, February 03, 2009
Working with Romney locks does remind me of wanting to run my fingers through the locks of Gene Wilder's hair.
I'm pretty confident at this time that I don't ever really want to deal with unwashed fleece again. The Jacob fleece was seriously covered in shit and I could not break it into locks for cleaning. All two ounces were tossed in the sink en masse, and I hope I didn't felt in the washing. But it was *clean* when I finished.
The merino wasn't a high quality fleece. There was a definite break half an inch from the cut end, and it did not look like mistakes with the clippers. I ended up tossing about half of it.
This corridale was white and so light and fluffy with tiny crimp, I like to fantasize this must be the stereotypical nursery rhyme sheep- white and fluffy clouds.
I also washed the polwarth and dorset, saving the Liecesters and the longer staples, and the double coats for my next washing session.
Discussing the domestication of sheep as the road to civilization with my lord and anyone who will listen is great fun.
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