Or in this case probably carding. This here
is the most gorgeous shetland wool ever, destined to become yarn for socks. I’ve washed about 4 times this much and there is still a huge fleece to go. I drag the fleece out, spread it on the kitchen floor (that’s Joe’s favourite part) and take handfuls to wash in the kitchen sink (Joe’s second favourite part) and wash it lock by lock, matching different parts of the fleece for staple length, quality and colour. When the locks are clean I roll them in a towel and walk on it to remove most of the water, then I spread them on the largish heating vent in the kitchen to dry. This is Ken’s favourite part,
because it looks like I’ve taken a liking to breeding rats in the kitchen.
If it’s summer, sometimes I put them in the sunshine in the back garden, but that means engaging in a bitter war with the %^&*!! fleece stealing grey squirrel who lives in the backyard. It wouldn’t be so bad if the little crapper just stole fleece (yeah…ok, that would still be pretty bad) but the worst part is that this squirrel will fight for the yarn. I’ve taken to covering the drying fleece with a screen so he can’t get it, but when I go out to bring my fleece back in, he threatens me. Think I’m wimping out? The squirrel doesn’t just yell at me from a tree. When he sees me advance on “his” fleece, he springs from the tree, screaming some nightmarish squirrel expletives at me and makes for my face.
I’ve got to find another way to dry fleece in the summer. What’s the lifespan of a grey squirrel?