bring out the woolens

I humbly submit that for a knitter, there is no better time of year than when the temperature drops, and you can dig out all your knitted articles. Saturday in Brooklyn was so warm I was wearing a t-shirt, but a storm blew in that night and the temperature dropped precipitously. Since that time I have managed to wear the following hand-knits:

• two sweaters (one wool, one cotton);
• one vest (wool);
• one pair of socks (wool);
• one cowl (wool), and 
• one pair of fingerless mitts (also wool, can't beat it). 

Not all at the same time, however, let me reassure the more fashion-conscious among you. A few more days of this, however, and I may have my entire woolen wardrobe draped on and about my person.

Sunday in particular was bitterly cold, mostly because it was a very damp blowy day but perhaps also in large part because we are not used to such weather, and it was thrust upon us with very little time to adjust.

Secondo and I were committed (or maybe we should be committed?) that day to volunteer at a big event at the local historic house, which is only two miles from us. He decided to start working there late this summer. However, since he is an underage volunteer, I have to be present when he is there. I figured there was no point me just sitting around, so I also enlisted. The supervisor was very happy to have some young blood, but she was flat out thrilled to have a spinner on board. I spent a few beautiful afternoons on the house porch, figuring out the whims of the park's reproduction wheel and just enjoying the peace and beauty of the surroundings.

The blue building in the background is a working grist mill.

Sunday was a bit less pleasant, but I still had quite a nice spot to sit and spin in the house's kitchen, with one of the docents keeping my company while she carded a raw fleece. My next job is teaching her how to spin.

No more raw fleece for me; I really don't like spinning in the grease.

I washed up part of another fleece to make my job a bit easier.

Poor Secondo was stuck out in the rain with the sheep. He took advantage of the canopy they provided but the stupid ram lambs did not, preferring to huddle against the outbuilding and look thoroughly miserable.

Secondo had a good time all the same, sharing his shepherding experiences with all and sundry. These were actually a group of friendly, older 4-H kids from a different county, asking him what he did with his "goats" and pointing at certain (ahem) structures on the ram lambs and asking how much milk he got on a daily basis. He confessed he wasn't quite sure how to answer that last one, but he was glad they were just teasing him and not expecting a serious answer!