Shearing Gerbils at Townings Farm

Saturday I had a new experience: shearing gerbils. It was the Vintage Harvest Fair at Townings Farm, East Sussex. Townings is a family run farm specialising in traditional breeds. They raise Longhorn and Sussex cattle, Saddleback pigs and Hebridean sheep. 

At the Vintage Harvest Fair, the public can meet the animals, see vintage farm machinery in action, browse the craft stands and watch sheep shearing. That's where I came in. This was only my second public shearing demo, a scary proposition in itself. 

Being September, the adult sheep had all been shorn. However September is the traditional time for lamb shearing. So I in my enthusiasm had agreed to shear Hebridean lambs in public. Hebrideans are small primitive sheep. They have all their wild instincts intact and they have as many as four horns. 

I don't have much lamb shearing experience so I went along in the week to practice. I may as well have been shearing gerbils, or ferrets as one helpful onlooker suggested. Trying to hold the lambs was like trying to grip a bar of soap in the bath. You can grip an adult sheep with your knees and thighs. The lambs didn't reach my knees so I found myself bent into all sorts of contortions trying to hold the lambs with my lower legs while bending down enough to shear them.

This was shearing in miniature. When I was going round the fiddly bits between the hind legs I really wanted to switch to a nasal hair trimmer. The handpiece felt far too big for the lambs' dainty contours. Not only were they tiny, they also wriggled and squirmed and stabbed me in the legs with their horns. 

Weird things happened. On the long blows, when the sheep is lying on its side, you tuck your left foot under the shoulder. I did this and several times I ran into my toes with the handpiece. This never happens shearing adult sheep because unless you are a clown the sheep is a lot bigger than your feet. 

On the long blows

The lambs seemed to be able to get their toes on the floor or push against my legs however I tried to hold them. I think their legs are longer in proportion to their body than those of an adult sheep so when held in the same way as an adult the lamb can get its feet on the floor and escape.

This position isn't in the manual

Or maybe I'm just making excuses for poor technique? I do know I need to get more practice shearing gerbils, sorry - lambs.

UK 9 Hour Lamb Shearing Record

In less than 12 hours Joel Barton from East Sussex will attempt to set a new UK 9 hour lamb shearing record. Currently the record is held by Roy Collier who sheared 521 lambs in 9 hours on 27 August 2011 in Knockrobin, Co Wexford, Ireland. 

Tomorrow's attempt is taking place at Woodchurch, near Ashford, Kent. Joel Barton has been a professional shearer for seven years. He first started shearing when he was a student at Plumpton College. Joel has been training for the event for the last year.

Joel will be shearing Romney lambs. He will start at 5am and finish at 5pm. Joel will shear for two hours, then take a break. After that he will shear in 1hour 45 minute runs with breaks in between ( a run is a period of time when a shearer shears continuously without stopping, during each run Joel will be looking to lose less than 10 seconds between lambs). This work pattern reflects a normal working day for a shearer. A normal working day for Joel would be eight hours actual shearing broken down into four runs. 

 Supporters have traveled from as far away as Scotland and even New Zealand to assist Joel. Behind the scenes, a team of around 15 people will be making sure everything runs smoothly. The back up team have the vital job of ensuring a constant supply of lambs and taking care of the equipment. The record attempt will be closely monitored by officials from the British Isles Shearing Competitions Association.

Tomorrow I will be reporting on Joel's progress via Twitter @Romneyteg. 

In the meantime here is video coverage of  Roy Collier setting the current record.

Stepping Up the Neck

I've had a bit of a break from shearing. The weather has played havoc with bookings since you can't shear wet sheep, also I've been busy dyeing for Fibre East and working on the new website. Still, I managed to sneak away at the weekend and shear a few sheep. 

I was a bit worried I would have forgotten how to do it. Or that my fitness levels would have dropped. I'm sure my fitness levels have dropped but not as much as I feared. Despite the initial trepidation, I decided the best thing to do was just get stuck in. 

Working with another shearer out of a pen I had the luxury of choosing which sheep to shear. It is always a debate, do I choose the smaller ones which weigh less but are either more wriggly or older and bonier or the big fat ones which are easier to shear but so heavy? 

Fat or chunky sheep are all smooth curves and well filled firm flesh with large flat surface areas for the handpiece. Small sheep are more fiddly, there's less room for the handpiece, especially around the crutch area. Skinny sheep are all lumps and bumps. It's like shaving your legs, which is easier, running the razor over firm curved calf muscle or struggling with all the different planes and loose skin on your knees? Shearing skinny sheep is just like shaving a whole lot of knees.

I went for the smaller sheep. More fiddling, less weight. When a sheep which weighs at least as much as I do pushes back into my legs it is hard not to fall over, I have to stop shearing to get my balance back and regain control. Big and fat may be easier to shear but not when you are lying on your back with the sheep stood on top of you.

Currently I am working on getting to grips with one particular stage of shearing. It is when you step up the neck. This is a really hard manoeuvre. When you've finished the belly and first hind leg you take a big step with your left foot followed by a smaller step with your right foot at the same time switching the sheep from resting on her right hip to resting on her left hip. 

I remember when I was first learning the instructor put a bit of wool on the board and said: 'That's where your left foot needs to be.' The distance looked impossible. I had enough trouble holding the sheep with both feet on the floor. Ask me to stand on one foot and at the same time roll 80kg of wriggling muscle between my legs one handed while the other hand holds a running handpiece? You've got to be joking. 

These pictures, taken at the South of England Show, show just before and after stepping up the neck:

 

I fell over a lot at this stage, or hung onto the front of the pen for dear life. I found it impossible to keep my balance and keep hold of the sheep. Eventually I managed the manoeuvre without falling over, hanging onto other people or losing the sheep. But for a long time I've been switching off the shearing machine and putting down the handpiece at this point. It seemed safer than either poking myself in the face or cutting the sheep's ears. 

However, when the handpiece is on the floor it can be kicked by the sheep. Once a sheep kicked my handpiece and I couldn't see where it had gone until another the next shearer along found my handpiece tangled up in his sheep's fleece. Fortunately the flying handpiece hadn't hurt anyone and wasn't damaged.

So I am trying to get the hang of stepping up the neck while holding onto the handpiece and rolling the sheep one handed. The sheep always puts her penny's worth in by having a good wriggle. A few times at the weekend the sheep got on her feet as I tried to settle her into the new position. This is nasty as it means the sheep is on her feet with me straddling her. To get her back on her bottom I've got to unstraddle the sheep. Yep, once again I'm trying to stand on one foot, control a sheep one handed and deal with the running handpiece with the other hand. Still, with practice I am getting better. Shearing sheep is not easy. But the sense of achievement when another shorn sheep trots way is well worth the effort.

Wearing the Red Vest

Remember I was disappointed when I qualified to shear at Plumpton College Open Day then the event was cancelled? Well, I finally got to wear the red vest. I was part of the Plumpton College Shearing Team at the South of England Show (yes I know, the show was 7-9th June - I'm a bit behind!) It's a milestone in my journey to learn how to shear sheep.

The Plumpton College Shearing Team - thanks to Plumpton College for the picture

I had mixed feelings about shearing in public. There's always the worry something will go wrong, like falling over or letting your sheep escape. Then it's a male dominated world. I think a lot of people assume I'm there to roll wool and sweep the floor. Every time I opened the pen gate I sensed surprise behind me. That girl is going to shear a sheep!

I sheared every day of the show, shearing 18 sheep across the three days. The sheep were all very similar, lovely Suffolk Mule tegs. I really felt like I was improving and I think it helped that the sheep were consistent. When every sheep you pull out of the pen is different it can almost feel like starting again. Each sheep was a similar weight, size and shape and the fleeces combed through beautifully.

I can tell from the time stamps on the photos I was taking about 8 minutes to shear one sheep. That is slow but the important thing is to get the pattern and foot work right. Speed can come later. I've got to grips with the basics of shearing but there is so much detail to learn. For example the answer to the question why is the sheep struggling may be, you need to move your right toes two inches to the left. It's that precise.

Meet Oliver

I promised to tell you about Oliver. Oliver is a rather special lamb. He is an orphan and just like his namesake he is always bleating for more. Even though he is bottle fed, he chases the ewes around and tries to sneak a drink from other lambs' mothers. 

Oliver came over to watch the shearing. When one of the ewes was sat up to be sheared he saw her bulging udder and two pink teats waving at him. Oliver could not resist. He latched on and helped himself. 

Shearing had to wait while Oliver filled his belly. Fortunately, the ewe didn't seem to mind.

Goats Move in Mysterious Ways

I've been trying my hand at something different. Goat shearing. Goat shearing? Angora goats, the ones that produce mohair, require shearing. I can shear a sheep, sort of, and goats are much smaller and lighter, how hard can it be?

Sheep are stoical, they take shearing quietly. Goats wail in a high pitched sack-cloth-and-ashes manner. If they had hands, they'd wring them. Goats also smell terrible. Then they have horns. Long curly horns which fit perfectly around your leg, immobilising you. Or straighter horns, just right for stabbing you in the throat. I have a lovely big scrape across my throat and a bruise under my chin - that was a nasty moment. I also have horn-shaped bruises all over my legs.

The fibre on a goat can be as much as a foot long. The fleece gets tangled and matted. On some goats the fibre growing on the legs is entwined with the fibre from the belly so the animal is effectively hobbled. Goats grow fibre in every nook and cranny of their bodies. When I turned my first goat over I didn't know where to start. I couldn't see where the goat was under all that hair and I was terrified of running into a skin fold.

Goats are notoriously difficult to shear. They are constructed differently from sheep. Imagine you have made a soft toy but you run out of stuffing - the toy is floppy and has lots of saggy bits. Goats are under stuffed. Their skins are too big for the contents, meaning they are a mass of wrinkles. Wrinkles are bad news in shearing, every wrinkle is a potential cut. To shear a goat without cutting it you have to hang on to all that loose skin, you can't afford to lose concentration. Goats are also much floppier than sheep, it's as though there are no bones in their bodies, they just sag through your legs like a smelly jelly.

Goats have much less grease in their fleece than sheep. The grease in a sheep's fleece helps to lubricate the shearing handpiece. When you're shearing goats, the handpiece tends to over heat, you have to keep stopping and putting on more oil. So, I've just got my goat under control, I'm holding the skin flat and I can see where to go, I'm about to push in the handpiece when I realise it is smoking and the goat has kicked the oil can out of reach. Now I have to hop backwards across my board with a goat jammed between my knees. By the time I have doused the handpiece in oil, the goat has got its breath back and is ready to horn me in the throat again. That's goats for you.

Maybe I Should Eat More Spinach

You want our wool?

Meet the lovely ladies I've been shearing today. They are Suffolk Mules, which means Dad was a Suffolk and Mum was a North of England Mule. They are about a year old so this is their first time being shorn. A very confusing  experience I should imagine.

Yesterday was the first day of the shearing season for me. I have set myself the goal of shearing at Plumpton College Open Day on 12 May. In order to shear as part of the public demonstration I need to prove I'm good enough. The last couple of days have been training in preparation for Open Day. 

Due to other commitments I could only do part of each day. But I sheared three sheep yesterday and three today. Six in two days isn't much, a professional shearer would expect to do between 200 and 400 a day. Only another 197 to go! Still, I'm just glad to ease myself back into to what is an extremely demanding activity. 

Where did my fleece go?

Today I was told I have made the grade and will be permitted to shear on Open Day. This means I will get to wear the special red shearing vest printed up with 'Plumpton College Shearing Team'. It feels like I've reached a milestone. But there's still a long way to go.

 

I am stronger now than when I first started trying to learn to shear but I still need to acquire a lot more strength and stamina. I guess I'm going to be on a diet of spinach for the next three months!

Golden Shears Sheep Shearing Competition

Right now the world's most prestigious sheep shearing competition is under way in New Zealand.  This is The Golden Shears World Championship at Masterton.  The competition is being streamed live over the internet. I highly recommend you have a peak over the next few hours. The event finishes Saturday night New Zealand time. Don't miss it! If you've never watched a sheep shearing competition before it is a real adrenalin rush, the commentators do a fantastic job, they make you feel like you're watching a horse race and they are very funny.

I have just seen the Senior Final. I was delighted to see a lady shearer in the final, Teatakura Crawford, she sheared 12 sheep in 15 minutes 45 seconds. To be in the Senior Final she must have beaten a lot of very good male shearers. It is inspiring to see a lady shearing at this level. 

You can find the full programme of classes here. To watch the competition live go to the Golden Shears website. Look out for David Fagan, a legend in the world of sheep shearing.

Have fun watching and let me know what you think!

The story behind the logo

This is an exciting time for my business, Shearer’s Girl Yarns, as I am starting to plan for the summer’s events. When you are a one person band you really do have to take on so many roles. I’m a spinner, a dyer, a sheep shearer, a wool winder, a book keeper, a salesperson, a copywriter, a web designer (maybe not!), a one person marketing department and now a designer of adverts. I’m sure I’ve missed several dozen other jobs I do but that’s my initial list. 

This year I want to think seriously about advertising. Today I am battling with fonts, colours and trying to fit my logo, web address and a few words which sum up my business into a small space. I thought I’d take a break before I tug out my last remaining strands of hair and tell you the story behind the company logo.

Here is the logo:

 

My logo was a joint enterprise (can’t you go to prison for that?) between myself and a friend with design experience and the right computer packages. I wanted colours which reflected the countryside, greens, golds, maybe oranges, tweedy colours. I wanted a font which would have a traditional feel, my business is rooted in crafts which go back centuries: sheep shearing, spinning, dyeing. I wanted an image which would remind people of where the lovely yarns we knit with come from. 

I am very much concerned with keeping the links alive between raising and shearing sheep and the crafts of working with wool. I didn’t want a carton sheep as my logo, I wanted something real. Something which reflected the hard work that goes into wool production. Luxurious yarns start with the dirt and sweat of manually shearing a sheep, hence the strapline ‘down to earth luxury’.

At this point in time, no one has succeeded in designing a machine which shears sheep without human labour. There have been unsuccessful experiments going on for years but that it another story. I am not a professional shearer but I do shear some sheep each year and I know from firsthand experience how difficult the job is. The aim was to design a logo which reminds us of where wool comes from and celebrates the effort and energy which goes into harvesting fleece.  

The image is based on a photo. Sadly, when I first started shearing I didn’t get any good photos, I only have a few grainy camera phone pictures:

I love this image because the angle of arms and elbows give the impression of movement and physical effort. Also the fleece is cascading down from my hands. 

What do you think of the logo? What does the logo suggest to you?

More Sheep in Literature

I recently confessed to a passion for poetry as well as sheep.  I'm always excited when the two combine and I come across a poem about sheep.  One of my favourite sheep poems is from Ted Hughes' Season Songs.  Unsurprisingly, the poem is entitled 'Sheep' and describes in detail the shearing process.  Hughes writes from the point of view of the sheep.  It is a sensitive, insightful poem:

Why am I dragged into the light and whirled onto my back

Why am I sat up on my rear end with my legs splayed

A man grips me helpless
What is that buzzer what is it coming
Buzzing like a big fierce insect on a long tangling of snake
What is this man doing to me with his buzzing thing.

I often wonder what the sheep is thinking.  When I did my shearing course we were shearing older ewes.  The farm hosts the course each year so the chances are the ewes get shorn by beginners several years running.  I'm sure the older sheep knew what to expect because some of them just lay there quietly, as though they were thinking 'here we go again'.  

In Hughes' poem, the sheep comes off the winner:

She trots away, noble-nosed, her pride unsmirched.
Her greasy winter-weight stays coiled on the foul floor, for somebody else to bother about.
She has a beautiful wet green brand on her bobbing brand-new backside,
She baas, she has come off best.

What do you think of Hughes' poem?  Do you think sheep remember being shorn?

Cover Girl

I have never aspired to be a cover girl.  However, if I were to dare dream of such a thing, I would imagine myself being photographed only after several hours with a very large team of professional beautifiers and then being thoroughly air brushed.  This week I had a shock.  I find I am a cover girl.  Photographed not after a makeover but after having been bent over a sheep for the last twenty minutes!

The September/October issue of Yarnmaker is out any day now and the cover image has been released.  This issue contains my second article on learning to shear where I recorded my experiences of a sheep shearing course I took in the summer.  I just didn’t expect to be on the cover.  Dirty, sweaty and jubilant, hugging the fleece I had just shorn (no, I'm not the one with four horns). 

 Thanks Dot!

Yarnmaker, started by Dorothy Lumb (Dot) in August 2010, is a magazine aimed at handspinners and people who are passionate about fibre.  Single issues and subscriptions are available from the Yarnmaker website.

Ear tags for maggots

One evening this week I was shearing until midnight by the headlights of a Land Rover.  It’s a case of trying to catch up after all the wet weather.  Shearing by headlights is an interesting experience.  Depending on which position I was in, I was either being dazzled or I was in shadow and couldn’t see much.  I wonder if it is possible to shear a sheep blindfolded?  So much of the job is about touch and the feel of the sheep.  Much of the time you are pushing the handpiece in blind because all the wool is in the way and you have to trust the pattern and shove the handpiece in.  When I first started I was afraid to push the handpiece into the wool in case I ran into a bit of sheep and cut the animal but the shearing pattern is designed to mould around the body of the sheep while avoiding the danger zones.  Anyway, I don’t think I’ll be attempting any blindfolded shearing just yet.  

The main advantage of shearing in the dark is not having a clear view of the maggots on the sheep with flystrike.  I have seen flystrike many times but never sheared a sheep myself which had fly.  This week I sheared two in a row.  As soon as I pulled the sheep out of the pen I knew she had fly by the smell, I could also see, despite the lack of light, dark stains in her fleece.  I called out to alert the owner then started shearing cautiously.  Flystrike is a terrible thing.  Flies lay their eggs in the fleece of the sheep, the eggs hatch into maggots and the maggots eat the sheep alive.  If not treated, flystrike will kill an adult sheep in a few days.  This poor girl had staining running down from her flank to her hind leg and belly.  I got the belly wool off, the belly was clear.  I started up the hind leg and discovered the first wound.  Part of me wanted to get someone else to shear the sheep but I knew if I am serious about learning to shear this was one unpleasant experience I had to go through.  

Shearing must be painful for a sheep with flystrike but removing the fleece destroys the maggots’ habitat and is an essential part of treating the affliction.  I knew I needed to get the wool off as close to the skin as possible to leave the maggots no where to hide but this meant running the handpiece right over the wounds, I was as gentle as possible.  Once the fleece was off I could see the sheep had fairly extensive but shallow damage.  If it’s not caught in time the maggots will bore deep holes in the animal.  I held the sheep and the owner applied Crovect.  Crovect is a wonderful blue liquid you pour or spray onto the sheep, it has an instant affect, killing the maggots immediately.  Fortunately I couldn’t see too much in the dark, just a general wriggling.  I’m confident the two sheep I sheared which had flystrike will recover, they were treated in time.

When we finished the job and were packing up, I saw my shearing board had a generous scattering of confused maggots wandering round wondering where their meal had gone.  The shearing board was coming with us and I really didn’t like the idea of any lingerers ending up in the trailer.  But black humour helps in these situations.  In this country the movement of livestock is strictly controlled, sheep have to wear ear tags showing both their flock number and an individual number so the animal is traceable wherever it goes, sheep also cannot be moved off the farm without accompanying paperwork.  Pointing to the maggots on my board I asked, ‘What about these?  Are they coming with us?  Shall I ear tag them?’      

The one that nearly got away

Wool sacks filled with fleece and in the background the shorn sheep

The rain has finally stopped and I have been out shearing.  The first day I did three Southdowns, the second day I did five Southdowns and the third day I managed six Southdowns.  Then over the weekend I broke the ten barrier, shearing 12 Mules in one day.  These are tiny numbers compared to professional shearers but it’s my personal battle and each time I do more I get a real buzz.

The advantage of Southdowns is they are quite small sheep so I found them easy enough to turn and get out of the pen now that I am getting fitter – I wouldn’t have found it easy a few weeks ago!  The disadvantage is they have wool growing in every conceivable nook and cranny.  These Southdowns were short and chubby, little barrels on legs.  Fat sheep are easier to shear, there are less lumps and bumps.  You can read more about shearing Southdowns here.  

While moving the Southdowns I put my hand on a ram’s back to push him, as I did so there was a terrible sound of crunching bones.  My stomach turned over.  ‘I’ve broken his spine.’  I thought, which was crazy because I hadn’t pushed him very hard.  ‘What was that?’  I asked.  ‘His teeth.’  The shearer said.  His teeth?  The sound came again, I could see the ram was grinding his teeth.  He must have happened to grind them just as I pushed him.  

When we switched to shearing North of England Mules the sheep felt completely different.  Mules are tall elegant sheep with long bodies, long necks and long legs, unlike the short necked Southdowns.  

A North of England Mule ewe

The squat Southdowns always felt stiff between my legs and when sat up they tended to keep their heads up.  The Mules felt much more floppy and hung their heads when sat up.  Except for one sheep whose head was hanging down relaxed then she suddenly threw her head in the air and smacked me in the face – ouch.

When I had the Southdowns sat between my legs their shoulders came to my knees but the Mules seemed to fill the space between my legs so I felt that if the sheep pushed against me I would take off.  The Mules were also more bony, their hip bones protruded and on some the back bone was prominent.  This meant I was shearing up and down hill, trying not to leave wool in the hollows.  The sheep weren’t in bad condition, it’s just different breeds have different body shapes and these sheep were still feeding their lambs so they were on the slim side.

At the Mule job I started using a Warrie Back Aid.  You can see the Back Aid in this picture.  Isn’t it a beautiful setting?  

I haven’t used one before as I thought it was another piece of equipment to master and I had enough to think about.  However the Back Aid didn’t get in my way or restrict me at all as I had feared.  A Back Aid is a gadget which takes some of your weight while you are bent over shearing, it eases the strain on the back.  The Back Aid is basically a wide sheep skin strap suspended on springs, the springs allow plenty of flexibility, as I found out.  Unfortunately, the chestbelt sits across the chest under the arms, for me that means right across the bosom.  I thought this would be uncomfortable but actually it wasn’t and I found the chest belt tended to work its way down below my bust.

At first  I felt as though the Back Aid was pulling me up and I was fighting it to get down to the sheep’s tail.  There are three springs so I disconnected one then it didn’t pull me as much.  As the day went on, I put the Back Aid through an unexpected tough test.

I went into the pen for a sheep and they were all massive.  ‘Oh well,’ I thought, ‘I’ll just have to manage.’  I got the sheep out of the pen onto the shearing board and everyone was ribbing me, shouting, ‘Couldn’t you have found a bigger one?’  ‘Have you been putting your ewes to a stallion?’  I countered.  Fortunately, the sheep relaxed and didn’t struggle.  ‘We’re going to get along just fine.’  I thought.  I did the belly and the first leg and stepped up the neck. 

I think perhaps part of the problem was I hadn’t allowed for the Mule’s long legs, she got her front feet down on the board and that was it.  She pushed up under me, the springs of the Back Aid contracted and I went up in the air.  We were working in a large field so if the sheep escaped half shorn it would mean an exhausting chase round the field in the heat.  Much less stress for the sheep and less hassle for us to hang on to her.  So hang on I did.  But I was completely at the ewe’s mercy, unable to get my feet down properly.  We shot across my board onto the next shearer’s board, cannoned into him and his sheep, I had a nanosecond to hope his handpiece didn’t cut me and to shout an apology as we bounced off and continued onto the tarpaulin where the fleeces were being rolled.  I was squealing the whole way and yelled extra loudly as I felt myself falling.  I think the sheep must have slipped on the tarpaulin, we fell together in a heap.  As we went down the sheep’s head hit me in the face and I bit my tongue.  

I lay looking up at the sky and saw to my horror the springs of my Back Aid impossibly stretched out. Bother!  I’d forgotten I was still in the Back Aid but I couldn’t have got out of it without letting go of the sheep.  I was terrified the springs would snap and injure somebody.  Amazingly, they held.  I was a long way from my workstation.  Another shearer came to my rescue and with a struggle we got the sheep back to the shearing board where I finished shearing her with no further adventures.  Well done Warrie for making a Back Aid robust enough to cope with the mistakes of an idiot amateur! 

  Gathering up the sheep for shearing