There’s a sheep in that sheep! Shearing Day.

Before I even started looking for Mama the sheep I began asking around about a local shearer. Sheep need to be shorn every year, they are mountain animals, they thrive in the winter but to leave all that wool on a sheep in the summers here would be awful. So a local shearer was critical to my plan.  And I found one. For fifty dollars and a jar of honey he drives all the way out here and shears the sheep.

Yesterday The Shearer called me in the morning and told me that he was coming in the afternoon. This was kind of short notice as the sheep had been out in the rain. Usually I would put them in the night before. But this man is a gift. So I brought all the sheep into the barn and penned them to await the arrival of their hairdresser.

We began with Hairy MacLairy who was pronounced a big sheep.

You are not wrong there, mate.

The Shearer is a man of few words. 

And the job is done in quick smart time. He has been out to NZ to the shearing competitions but never took to the NZ shearers garb of black singlet and seldom washed woolen pants tied up with baling twine.  So he and I were twinnies in our clown suits.

Shearers have very strong backs.

Luckily I was just the sheep sorter and rousie. As he took one out, I brought another one into the holding pen and swept the worst of the wool away, so the fleece was partly sorted. We swiftly worked our way down to Mama.

And with a big grin at the sight of his honey, The Shearer packed up his gear and rode off into the sunset in his broken down old red truck. No flies on him, he is in and out at speed. 

Leaving behind a delighted flock of naked sheep.

Even Hairy is a new man. 

Daisy managed to get out into the grass as well though it is way too soft for her big self.

And I was left with a huge pile of beautiful if slightly damp fleeces. These will all be spread out in the sun today, (luckily I think I might get some sun today). I shall pick out all the nasty bits then they will be rolled and packed into a cardboard box for their trip to the mill.

Good morning. I have found a mill up Chicago way who will turn this raw wool into skeins of soft white yarn. So if you are a knitter with some spare time let me know as I am looking for someone (to pay) to knit me a couple of big jerseys (jumpers) for the winter.  The rest I will make into woolly hats and scarves as rather wonky christmas presents for the children of the families, which is about my limit. 

So my work is cut out for me today.  You all have a lovely day too. 

Oh and the bees: So far each day I have seen bees moving in and out of each hive.  After the first day when there was a lot of manic activity it seems that they have settled somewhat. 

The chicks: Have adjusted well to their new surroundings and are even up sitting on their mini perches which is a relief. 

Daisy: Her milk is clean once more and she is in a much better frame of mind. 

Blue: Still goes to sleep in his little box at the door in the evening, and is right there still asleep in the morning. I have not put up the verandah gates since that first night. So far the only time he is in a crate is at milking time, and yesterday I did not even shut the door. I just say ‘in your corner’, and he goes and sits there with the kittens (who are no longer kittens) and waits for his fresh warm milk. 

Back: No pain this morning! YAY. “Yes Mothers, I shall be extra careful today.” 

Have a lovely day. 

your friend celi