Letters
Life With Wool: Three Bags Full
Greetings from Maine!
May has arrived—and with it, the blackflies, ticks, daffodils, and tulips. The picnic tables have been repainted, the fryolators and soft-serve machines restarted for the season.
The minute the calendar flips past April, my fingers twitch for raw wool. Our world is awash in freshly shorn fleeces still glistening with lanolin and echoing the baah and buzz and snip of the shearing shed.
The first raw fleece to whom I ever said “I do” was at the Maryland Sheep and Wool Festival, which always takes place the first full weekend in May. It’s a daunting commitment to make, the acquisition of an entire fleece.
You’re committing to something a sheep spent a whole year growing. Everything that sheep lived through—its every meal, gestation, lambing, changing pastures, summer storms, the first autumnal morning, amorous dalliances in the fall, whispered conversations in the quiet of a winter barn, each of those moments leaves an imprint on the fleece—into the steadiness of its crimp, the fineness and consistency and even color of its fibers. You’re buying not just a bag of wool but a year of life.
Could there be a headier experience than holding a sheep in one’s arms, minus the actual sheep? Pounds and pounds of pure wool—tracing the outline of the sheep’s body when unfurled—are rolled up and stuffed into a clear plastic bag.
The finest specimens are submitted for the fleece show and sale, which some argue is the heart of Maryland Sheep and Wool and most other fiber festivals. It’s certainly the epicenter of excitement—a feeding frenzy in which normally polite people abandon their manners and do anything short of lying, cheating, and stealing, to get first crack at the best fleeces.
My first fleece was a beautiful brown Shetland I can only describe as complicated.
The more the owner explained how the fleece needed to be properly processed to be appreciated, the more intent I was on convincing her (and myself) I had all the necessary qualifications. I brought the fleece home, unfurled it, and was so instantly overwhelmed that I rolled it back up, stuffed it in its bag, and didn’t look at it again for another year.
Processing raw wool offers all the plot lines of a good story, from inciting incident to rising action to climax. The falling action and resolution never really come, for when you’ve finished washing and carding and spinning fibers, there is no aftermath and closure—only the discovery of a whole new door leading to a whole new world.
Some will be more methodical, sorting different parts of the fleece for specific intents, the tender lace fibers from this section, the bulky sturdy fibers from this section. Some will embark upon a fleece with a plan.
I lack that gift for foresight and discipline. My mind only extends as far as what will fit on my towel.
To drop the locks in hot soapy water and see that first poof of brown appear, to watch that water turn from mud to chai to milk. To rinse until the water runs clear. To blot on that towel, to leave it outside in the sunshine.
A watched fleece never dries, so you distract yourself with something else. No matter how many times I’ve done this, I’m always completely astonished by the transformation. What looked like the soggy mess retrieved out of a clogged drain becomes a shimmering, ethereal fluff when dry.
Next comes the flick of a brush, teasing open the ends, seeing how the fibers awaken, how their crimp comes alive. Each fiber is freed from its crimp formation.
I slowly feed the fibers into a drum carder, and then I use a metal hook to tease the fibers from the drum, pull them off, and set the airy cloud aside. Again and again, the process is repeated until I can’t handle the anticipation one more minute. At which point out comes the wheel.
Now that May is here, spinning moves out onto the porch. The beautiful cherry Norm Hall wheel stays inside with the piano. Instead, I use a wee thing called a Sparrow from Daedalus. It’s lightweight and speedy, powered not by feet but by electricity.
Strand by strand, the ethereal cloud is captured into a fine, smooth web of twist. Without a plan, there’s no need to think about how far one has left to go. You don’t need to think about how the bobbin can only hold so much, and about how you’ll need two or three or four more filled bobbins before you’re ready to ply the strands together into a yarn in sufficient yardage for your project.
I spin my fluff, I switch bobbins and spin some more. I sleep. For twist always needs time to settle, just like we do. Plying brings the satisfaction of watching your cloud take on the shape and texture of a beautiful yarn—followed by more sleep, for the twist and for you.
Then comes freeing the yarn from the bobbin and winding it into a hank. More beauty! More satisfaction. Isn’t it pretty?
Then comes dropping the skeined yarn into a warm soapy bath again. You see a faint poof and think…I thought I washed it all out. No. The fibers held onto their secrets a while longer.
Then, watching and waiting as the yarn dries, the crimp and twist and ply settle into their final formation.
For some, this moment marks the beginning. At last, they’re ready to cast on and begin. But for me, it is the culmination of all delight. I see no stitches that could possibly top the pleasure of what got me here. That skein sits, full of promise, like the fresh new leaves unfolding on the trees outside. A promise of the potential for what’s to come. A season of creativity.
MDK Society Members will enjoy a visit with Clara on May 21 at 5 p.m. during the Snippets Show. Wanna join us?
Wow, what exquisite writing, detailing the great love and respect Ms Parkes has for sheeps wool. I would absolutely love to spend a day watching someone go through the extensive labor to process a hank of beautiful wool yarn. It’s just so interesting, and I will sure be thinking of these procedures the next time I’m kniting with some great wool. Thank you for this special story.
Thank you Gitte! I think you’d really enjoy following wool’s transformation in person. It really is a special experience.
Amorous dalliances….how can you use that phrase to explain the birds and the bees to a seven year old? (If, in this day and age they don’t already know it?). It’s too delightful a euphemism to waste. I have visions of light-footed sheep frolicking into an amorous dalliance (curtain closed while they actually dally). The rest of the article was delightful and educational too, as what we’d expect from Clara. Hope you have a new book coming out, Clara.
(I love the mental picture of sheep dallying behind a closed curtain. Ahh, such barnyard propriety!)
Greetings from the Midcoast! Thank you so much for this, Clara. I can’t imagine how you accomplish so much – especially while living in such a beautiful place that constantly calls you to take a walk down some path or other. Even though I have read this sheep-to-yarn story in your books, it’s such a pleasure to enjoy it again here on MDK. And excellent photos too! And now, on to the Daily Respite…
Hello to you, Ginny! And thank you.
I can remember my first trip to Maryland Sheep and Wool and bumping into the delightful Ms. Parkes… it was an awe-filled moment… a bit overwhelming, all those fleeces and Clara! A moment I will never forget. I left the barn that day with a special Shetland Fleece. Processing and spinning it was such a delight! Thank you for sharing such vivid memories!
Hello again, Kat! I love that you’ve had your creative way with a special Shetland fleece.
What a wonderful piece. To say that I am multi-craftual would be an understatement but I have never been drawn to spinning. Until now.
I loved this article. It captured my relationship with processing fleece and creating yarn. Thanks for this beautifully written reflection.
Dear Clara, I want you to write all the books, as I could never tire of reading words you assemble into sentences and paragraphs. I suppose part of my obsession is you speak to the thing I love the most too, wool!
Thank you for your inspiration, I too now want to drag out the wash pots and drying racks.
Thank you Michelle! Such words of encouragement, I might have to print them out and keep them by my desk.
Thank you for this most delightful walk through your wool world… most enjoyable! Clara doesn’t disappoint.
Hi Clara,
Lovely article! The whole process is magical. The festival was last week, I came with a few delicious fleeces. I have not yet “come down” from the euphoria of The Maryland Sheep and Wool Festival:)
Those festival fumes take time to clear, don’t they?
I loved it. The whole process. You love what you do. We need more of this.
❤️
Oh yes, that’s exactly it! The transformation of barnyard to exquisite yarn is magic. My favorite place at the festival is the fleece barn at the intersection of shepherd and spinner.
Oh, Clara! I loved every word of this! From your description of a year in the life of a sheep to the labor intensive cleaning and spinning. Thank you for a beautiful exploration of wool!
Your writing is like reading a short story by a gifted writer. I love reading about the process and the end result. I have been attending the MD Sheep and Wool Festival for many years, as a volunteer. I missed it this year, but cannot wait to get back. It is one of the highlights of my knitting journey. Thank you.
The joy Clara Parkes brings to every aspect of her life is truly inspiring. The way she dissects everything into minuscule “mini universes” and gives each one its due is remarkable. Thank you, Clara, for your gifts of words and insight.
Her writing is phenomenal, but when I experienced Clara reading her own words on audiobooks, I was transported to a magical world!
That is an excellent description of Clara’s way with words. Her’s is one of the most delightful imaginations I’ve ever come across.
If you’d like daily Clara, she has a substack you would love, if you’re not already there. It’s the Daily Respite.
Goodness. I’m honored by your words, Barbara!
I look forward to reading Clara’s pieces: I’m educated, inspired and delighted! Thank you!
I’m not a spinner, but happy to observe from a safe distance. I have a friend who mom used to be a spinner. When someone would ask herwhat the end product was going to be, she said “Yarn.” Lovely yarn, Clara.
I have developed a new appreciation for wool after reading this! Combined with Clara’s wonderful ability to take you along with her on the journey, this was just what I needed this morning! Thank you
Exquisite and delicious Clara, thanks for another delightful letter. And for such a fascinating detailed description of the gentle work involved, with gorgeous photos too!
Clara, it is always good to see an article from you. I just recently reread KNITLANDIA. It had been awhile. My daughters and I were veterans of going to the Md. Sheep and Wool. I’m too handicapped to walk around the fairgrounds now. We started going when my youngest fell in love with sheep around the age of 9 years. As a child she had a growing collection of stuffed sheep. She still has them all. We miss going, but have fond memories to look back on. The sheep loving daughter is a great knitter and I am a veteran needle crafter ever since my mom put a crochet hook in my hand when I was in high school.
So beautiful and such a loving description of the amazing way wool comes into our human lives. I’ve always been enthralled with the smell and feel of raw fleece, but have never bought one.
And what serendipity!! I just recently got my Ashford spinning wheel from 1974 working again, and I’m heading over to a new friend’s place this afternoon to meet her 9 sheep and help her skirt and card some of the fleece she’s been washing and drying since their recent shearing! The stars are aligned for a day of fleece : )
WELL! I think this was meant to be. May the fleece be with you.
Now I will never knit with a mass produced yarn again because the process that you described was almost “Holy “ in nature for me. Superwash may be great for gifts but not for real knitting
It really IS almost holy in nature, isn’t it? A totally different experience. And you definitely cherish every single inch of the yarn, too.
Clara, I started reading your books years ago; the first was like a meditation. This, with its pictures, a visual feast! I don’t often check the author when I am reading short articles and I didn’t have to in this one. The words and the presentation told me it was you. Thank you ever so much.
Judy Ziegler
Oh my goodness. Thank you, Judy. ❤️
Such wonderful, passionate writing! I second what so many others wrote. I looked forward to & went to MD Sheep & Wool for many years when living in DC then Baltimore, fond memories & lots of pictures. Remember seeing those amazing bags of fleece but wouldn’t know what to do with one so it’s wonderful reading your description. Thank you!
Clara, what is the meaning of life? Just curious.
I’m not entirely sure but I THINK it has something to do with chocolate. And finding friends who will always join you in bypassing salad and heading straight for dessert.
WE ALL WANT TO KNOW.
All the answers are in my 16-week paid webinar, “How to Convince People You Know the Meaning of Life So That They’ll Pay You to Keep Trying to Figure Out What The Heck The Meaning of Life Might Be.” Would you like a coupon?
What a lovely story of fleece to skein. Thank you!
Wonderful article and very informative.