i only "eh" in jest...

i climbed out of bed unapologetically late today to find that it had rained while i was asleep. this was a most welcome sight, as Eastern Canada is in the grips of a sweltering heat-wave. the rain brought a brief respite, prompting the appearance of some much-needed pollinators who have been mostly laying low over the past week.

the animator caught a shot of a butterfly resting on a rain-drenched squash leaf in this year's balcony garden project... which he promptly turned into a jigsaw puzzle.

there was some dispute regarding the use of said image.

me: i'm gonna put that picture in my blog post.
him: did you ask for my permission to use it?
me: did you ask for my permission to use my camera?
him: [silence]
me: exactly! my camera. my photo. 
him: but i took it.
me: good luck proving that.

there has also been a spike in the number of wildfires across Quebec, which makes sense with all this heat. however, forestry experts have identified an additional, wholly-unexpected factor that is contributing to there being twice as many forest fires as usual at this time of the year.

you guessed it...it's the covid!

people are stuck at home, with little by way of distraction/entertainment, so the great outdoors presents itself as an attractive destination for anyone seeking to escape the confinement (while maintaining the common sense avoidance of other human beings). as a result, a lot more of them than usual are coming to the same dangerous conclusion.

"let's go camping, eh?"

now, i feel a need to pause here for a moment to address anyone who may have read that last sentence, and are now concerned that i may have gone native. i assure you that no such thing has occurred. i could not stop sounding like i spent most of my life in New York City, no matter how hard i might try. that quintessentially Canadian noise only ever escapes my face when i am joking about the place. trust me... i only "eh" in jest.

where was i again?

oh, yes... more people going camping, which means more irresponsible campfires, which means more forest fires. so now there is one more thing to worry about in what is already shaping up to be the most stress-inducing year in recorded history.

speaking of stress...

'twould seem i am doing a particularly bad job at keeping mine in check of late. i actually found myself on the receiving end of a bit of (wholly professional) medical advice that is unlike any i have encountered before. "you need to calm the hell down," he said. so now i can add that the list of things to (try not to) stress about. good grief!

i began my quest for calm by harassing a farmer about some sheep, and eventually purchasing a couple fleeces from the good people over at Kinnaird Farm. yes, i did recently get two fleeces (from a different farm). however, i really wanted some naturally-colored grey/black wool, so i convinced myself that this purchase was totally justified.

the only disappointment was that i could not go pick them up in person, as a visit to a sheep farm would definitely have knocked my stress levels down a few notches. the animator was prepared to turn the drive into a fun day trip. however, i am taking the whole 'common sense avoidance of other human beings' thing most seriously, so i ended up having the fleeces shipped to me... and the box sat unopened in a corner for several days.

him: you're not gonna open your package?
me: nope!
him: i thought you were so excited to get your fleece.
me: i am.
him: so why don't you open it?
me: the covid. 
him: i see.

it was like every gift-giving holiday rolled into one when i finally broke the seal on that box.

then i broke the vacuum seal on the biggest ziploc bag i have ever seen, and stood there in awe as the fiber expanded. everyone is entitled to their brand of crazy, and i totally embrace mine.

first there was Frosty, a North Country Cheviot/Blue-faced Leicester/Romney/Rideau Arcott cross. i have never worked with purebred Romney or Rideau Arcott wool, but i can see the definite influence in the cross. Frosty is a "hogget", which means a sheep that is in its second year. the term can also apply to the wool and the meat from the animal. yes, i do take my hobby very seriously.

i laid Frosty's fleece out (tip-side up) on a painting tarp that i commandeered for this very purpose. ten points if you spot the ridiculous cat. that is Cordy. she will show up again... and again.

i grabbed a few locks from different parts of the fleece. this one should have been called "Jacob", on account of the coat of many colors. it is insane that all of this came from the same sheep.

next came Blackie. this one is a NCC-BFL cross, and the fleece is finer and more springy than Frosty's. as with most naturally "black" sheep, the color of the wool is actually a super-dark, greyish brown.

i was trying to get a shot with my dark-grey kitty Philly for comparison, but she was more interested in running around like a lunatic.

i forgot to get a photo of Blackie's fleece opened out on the tarp, so i had to pause composing this post to do so (cut-side up this time) .

i took fewer samples from this one, as there was less variation across the whole thing. it is a mostly-uniform dark color with a tweedy patch that left me wondering if this sheep might be related to Don King. [disclaimer for legal purposes: i am in no way suggesting that Don King has engaged in any activity that might have resulted in his DNA being part of a sheep's lineage.]

as per usual, i grabbed some hot, soapy water...

and gave the sample fibers a wash, keeping them covered to maintain the heat in the water. the yogurt containers from last time have already gone into the recycling, so i am using takeout containers this time around... if you need all the details.

those greyscale colors really come alive after a wash. Frosty is on the top row, and Blackie is on the bottom. i really love those silvery-grey sections of Frosty's fleece. it would be nice to find a whole fleece that color.

i decided to wash Frosty's fleece first. i want to keep the locks intact, so i have been carefully laying them out in plastic mesh baskets that i keep for this very purpose, and washing them one basket at a time.

yes, it does take longer than if i divided the fleece in a couple-few batches and washed it like that, but there is something indescribably calming about sitting cross-legged on the floor, carefully organizing chunks of dirty wool into neat rows. that calm was, after all, the point of this whole thing.

unfortunately, Cordy (the Little One of our furry trio) keeps hanging around, trying to eat bits of the wool, and keeping her out of trouble is definitely cutting into the relaxing part of this exercise. try explaining to a cat that the doctor says you need to "calm the hell down". she is as troublesome as she is adorable.

i tied pieces of bird netting to a collapsible laundry rack to make a two-tiered wool-drying rack.

i would have added a third layer of netting to the bottom of the rack, but this setup doubles as a cat trap, so that would have been a very most terribly bad idea. she is seriously my favorite cat.

i want to fill the bathtub with this stuff, and dive in head-first. it is so lovely!

you can see the difference between the tips (left) and the cut-end (right) of the fiber. i wonder if this was the first time Frosty got a haircut. [addendum: the farmer said Frosty also had a haircut last year.]

i am about halfway done with this fleece, then i will move on to washing Blackie's. hopefully my poor cat will survive the over-stimulation.

there has also been quite a bit of spinning in between playing with dirty wool. i mentioned back in April that i had started spinning up the fiber i bought at last Summer's Twist Fibre Festival. [naturally, said festival is cancelled this year... which was another excuse for buying two more fleeces.] that got pushed to the side for a while, but i want to free up the wheel to start spinning all the fleece i have been accumulating of late.

i have two full jumbo bobbins so far, with about half a bobbin's worth of that fiber left to go, which should (hopefully) be enough for a simple sweater of some sort for self.

oh, and there was also a calendar at the bottom of the box of fleeces, and it is filled (naturally) with photos of happy sheep. one of those days was my birthday. it was total rubbish. perhaps i will get around to celebrating it some other day when life is slightly less insane.

it seems to be raining again. i am going to resume sitting cross-legged on the floor, playing with dirty fleece, with at least one cat close at hand to keep me company. i would not have it any other way.