I was recently offered a free Dorset fleece from a woman who saw me carding some shetland wool (good timing, I'd almost run out of fleece). She owns some sheep of that breed, and the alternative to giving the fleece away is throwing it out, or giving it to someone to use for insulation. She'd like to think it's being used productively, I think. Naturally, I accept.

All that is left of the Shetland

I have enjoyed taking the Shetland from a bag full of “stuff off the sheep, complete with pre- and post-sheep vegetable matter” to “so much fluffy stuff!!!” It has gone up in volume, but I have enjoyed every bit, since it came home from Rhinebeck.

Having agreed and given her my email address, I returned to playing with cards, shetland, and talking with the public about how much effort went into making the clothes on their back (cue the 1:10 ratio lecture going from the cloth to the sheep) in the pre-Industrial Age, and how an important portion of yearly wages could be the clothes on your back.

Here begins a month long story that went eventually to low farce. It took her a couple of weeks to locate the fleece. Then she had to put them in her truck. The email address I'd given her is not one I check as often as I should. We exchanged phone numbers, but I didn't notice when she called. Thank heavens for voicemail.

Thursday I actually left work on time, but she had headed home early because of bad weather. We talked, and I gave her my address with the assurance that if the weather was good, she could leave the fleece on the porch, and my husband could bring in. I went to work as normal, got out at “normal for me” getting home to no fleece on the porch, and none in the house (other than what is already there). It looked like she hadn't dropped it off on her way to South Jersey as I had thought she would, based on the phone call. Another missed connection, and I chalked it up to such, checking email for a chunk of the evening.

Then the phone rang. I looked down, recognized the number and tried to pick up before it went to voicemail. I didn't, but went down to turn on the outside light and stick my head out. A strange truck was outside. It turns out she had found the road, but the house numbers weren't visible. It turns out she's a biologist, which at least explains why her workday was cut short by bad weather.

full bag in back

She explained that the fleece was in the garbage bags in the back of her truck and went to get them.

She wasn't kidding about the garbage bags. One, full to almost to overflowing, the second half full. I thanked her profusely, and she headed for home after getting directions back to the main highway. I took my loot and put it away.

It's currently on the enclosed porch, subject to being stored in the garage to freeze any kind of critters that might have hitched a ride

This morning I started researching Dorset sheep and came to the following conclusions:

1. Dorset sheep produce about 5-7 lbs of wool a year. This has got to be the wool off of more than one sheep. I think this has got to be at least the product of at least 5-10 sheep. It's a very light gray/just off white color, but that might be because it hasn't been washed yet.  Full bag seems to have 15-20 lbs, not full bag seems to have about 10 lbs in it
2. I should wash “the stuff off the sheep” in 1-2 lb lots. In a sifting kitty litter pan. This is more than one lot of sheep stuff, and I have to scrub down the pan before I use it. A lot.   Either that, or I need to go looking for a local wool processing mill.  (Done.  I cannot afford that, even if I drive the stuff to the mill myself.)
3. It feels very nice, and smells like sheep. I'm looking forward to processing it.

4. 

   The fluffy mass of Shetland

   I need to check what I did and what I used when I washed the Shetland fleece.  (Done, it's over on Livejournal, here and there.  There are also pictures.)
5. I need to spread out the Shetland and take pictures of it. The last time I tied, the battery on the phone was almost dead.  (Accomplished, see right)
6. I need to buy more shampoo/ivory soap/dawn dish soap. I'm sure I don't have enough.
7. I'm not jealous of anyone who got to go or plans to go to Rhinebeck.  I have enough fiber to keep me busy for the next couple of years.

Anyone want some smelly sheep stuff?