We have the greatest sheep shearer. She's the only woman shearer in Quebec, and drives up, down and around to farms all over. She travels with her own border collie, who worked in tandem with Chloe to gather round the sheep. Then she plugged in the shearer and away she went. It takes her about a minute to shave each sheep. She holds them in place with her legs and the sheep stay calm as can be during the whole coif.
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| She shears each sheep the same way. She's an athlete. This is a sport. |
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| This one has the shorn wool flipped up over its head. |
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| Then she flings the wool into a big pile |
What to do with all of that wool. You'd think that it's a commodity, but it's not, really. It's gross- filthy and full of bugs. I washed a cleanish white coat, and was going to use it to stuff a cushion. I filled a big bucket and used shampoo and rinsed it 3 times. My friend Jill used some wool for felting and made this nifty pot holder, which she gave me.
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