So I finally finished a big custom spinning order. I'm never going to get caught up...but I guess I'll never be bored either. Anyway, I washed the 1100 yards of Border Leicester (one of B. Willard's cousins) lamb fleece yarn and hung it to dry on the Wool House porch. I'd saved a handful of raw wool and and handful of roving to send along with the yarn and set it next to the yarn to take a picture.
Let me back track a few days. If you look closely, you can see a small scar on Eli's head, just above his right eye. That's just one of several holes in his head. That abscessed out in an oh so lovely way last week and I hauled him to the vet.
"Well, looks like he picked a fight with the wrong cat."
"Oh, no sir, Eli isn't a fighter. He doesn't fight with anyone."
Right. He came home and promptly picked several fights right in front of me. One with a stray cat who showed up on the porch one night (most likely how he got injured) and jumped Betsy a couple times.
He's been a big pain in the butt to take care of - think oral antibiotics and wound care. Finally we've reached the end. I guess he's figured that out and has decided to make up for lost time, having missed out on much attention while trying to avoid being caught for the last seven days. I couldn't shake him all afternoon.
You can sort of see the fleece, roving and yarn here.
A gray on gray photo bomb.
"So Eli, why don't you show everyone your shaved off, Frankenstein head."
"Stick it, lady."
Yeah, that's more like it.