The Wonder of Wool
By
Ali Irish
Photographs: Ali Irish
These are strange times, when an increasing number of people fail to recognise the origins of the everyday things in their lives. For the most part, it is food. Where does my meat come from? When will strawberries be back in? Why is there dirt on my potatoes? Given that what we eat is as essential as what we wear in order to make and maintain a comfortable existence, as knitters and crocheters – who, of course, do make the things they wear and know exactly where they come from, i.e. their own hands – it is not only necessary but also a privilege when, in this barcode-happy world, we get to see where our yarn comes from.
And where does our yarn come from? From some of the most wonderful animals in the world. Not just sheep - and let’s not forget the number of breeds of sheep one could choose from - but also goats, alpacas, camels, llamas and rabbits. I had the opportunity to see some of these and more besides when I visited WonderWool in Buith Wells, Wales this year, and I have to say that I now greatly appreciate the lovely yarns I get to knit with and the wonderful fibre I get to spin with. 
It was a real eye-opener to see these animals penned up, and looking rather happy for the attention, right next to stalls showing off their raw fleece from a recent shearing – or perhaps it was the fleece of a fellow friend? – and the yarn, both undyed and dyed, resulting from the fleece. It is not that I was so ignorant that it never occurred to me that this was the process in which I get the yarn I knit with, but somehow it gives my yarn more substance, more history.
Unlike the many things that we can simply walk into a shop and buy, without thinking of how it all came together into something we recognise, yarn is so much more. You buy yarn, spend a lot of time with it in your hands as you knit, and then have the pleasure of wearing your finished item or gifting it to someone.
And being able to trace it back to, say, a rather friendly and handsome young Bowmont sheep makes it all the more, well, real, actually. Almost honest.
Many of the traders and exhibitors there had tags with names on either their balls or hanks of yarn or bags of fibre, prepped or raw. People come away with yarn from Jessica’s fleece, or a bagful of Rowan’s second shearing. This takes knowing where your yarn comes from to a whole new level, where your yarn could actually have a personality. Is it from the stubborn Wensleydale ewe who’d just had two lambs this year, or the very tame guanaco who thinks he’s a human? Who knows?
Imagine if you spun yarn, too! Imagine coming to a place like this and seeing these creatures and taking a part of them home. The time then spent washing the fleece, drying it, carding it, readying it for spinning – whether by spindle or wheel – and then actually spinning it all, plying it, washing it, drying it… and then, one day, knitting it.
Imagine then, in the cold winter when you snuggle down a little deeper into your scarf or slip on your mittens, thinking with a smile that an alpaca named Coppelia gave some of her fleece to you so you could keep warm. Isn’t that just wonderful?
The next festival on the UK calendar will be Woolfest, where you will find Fyberspates and many other fascinating vendors. For information on upcoming sheep-and-wool shows, please visit Woolfest, WonderWool Wales or your local knitting and spinning guilds.
About the Author
Ali Irish is a struggling writer, knitter and photographer who has far more sock yarn than she has feet to knit for. She has recently learned to spin and now can no longer find her office sofa for all the fibre sitting on top of it. She lives in London with her husband and a wardrobe of yarn. Check out her blog here.
This article is copyright © 2008 to Alisha Irish. All rights reserved.