Woolly Weather Woes

BZZZZZZ WENT THE sheep-shearing clippers.“Hold her tight, Humphrey!” Hildy cried.

- Monica M. Roe

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Humphrey and Hildy LeGrand were as happy as two sheep farmers could be. They had ten white sheep, eight black-faced sheep, and five long-legged lambs. Early every autumn, Humphrey and Hildy would herd their sheep into the shearing pen beside the big, yellow barn. Then Humphrey would hold each sheep tightly while Hildy’s steady hands zzzzzed off each fleece.

When they finished, there were twenty-three fluffy piles on the floor, and twenty-three pink, skinny sheep leaping about, bleating happily as they were released back into the field. Humphrey and Hildy scooped up the fleeces and lugged them into the house. This shearing was a special one. They had saved all the wool from the last four hearings, and now they finally had enough.

The next few weeks we're very busy. They cleaned and carded the wool, then Hildy sat down at her big oak spinning wheel. Whizz! Whirr! The silky wool flashed through her fingers, twisting and winding itself into thick, fuzzy yarn.

Splish! Splop! Humphrey and Hildy dunked the yarn into steaming pots of brilliant dye, staining the strands a rainbow of shades, crimson and eggplant and jade.

Click! Clack! Humphrey’s steel knitting needles flashed brightly, looping and stitching the yarn together.