Red got the sheep in the pole barn and they huddled in the corner while Jim McRae, set up his equipment and got ready to shear them.  He started with Zelda, not because she’s the leader, but because of her with fleece.  He didn’t want any of the other sheep’s black wool getting mixed in with her white wool, which could change its color.

The donkeys, always curious, were hanging around outside the pole barn.  Red kept an eye on the sheep and Jon video taped it all.

Jim grabs the sheep by her head, tilting it up which calms the sheep then easily (I’m not really sure how he does it, but he does make it look easy) turns the sheep on her back so it looks like she’s sitting up.  Leaning the sheep’s body against his legs, the sheep goes slack.  There’s no more struggle as Jim begins shearing the belly and works his way around the sheep, removing the fleece in one piece.

At some point  during the shearing, the sheep (this is Tess)  look like a pile of wool. 

After they are shorn , (this is Socks)  Jim clips their hooves.

Socks, Zelda, Tess and Suzy wait together while Ma is being shorn.

Ma looks pretty comfortable, almost as if she’s enjoying it.

The sheep are relaxed and lighter after they are shorn.   If you’d like to see Jon’s video of the shearing click here.

Red and the chickens, Todd and Jon all out my window.   Todd’s fencing in the pasture way in the back of the property.  Just three lines of wire, so the sheep will not be going there, it’s too easy for them to break out, especially with Zelda in charge.  But for the donkey’s it will be Disney.  Not just grass, but brush and trees and a stream to drink from.  I’m afraid once they get back there we’ll never see them again.  Except, of course, when they want a carrot or some snuggling.

Well, it finally happened.   No hissing, no scratching, no evil eye, Minnie and Flo are eating breakfast out of the same bowl.  I see a potholder, maybe something a bit more civilized.  A tea party perhaps.

  It started with the safety pin on the pocket of the apron that Jackie sent me to use in a quilt.  Then I found the note about R.A. Peterson who made the apron and Anna who “cut it short”.

The apron had always been in Jackie’s mother’s linen closet and she thought it was a shower or wedding gift.  It wasn’t until she saw the note that I found that Jackie understood the history of the apron.

Jackie’s Great Grandmother Christine aka R.A. Peterson

Jackie’s Grandmother came to Minnesota from Sweden with her family when she was 9 years old.   Her father wrote about the twelve  day boat trip in his diary and about the good soil and big trees they saw on their way by train from Chicago to Minnesota.  They spent their first winter  with a couple of other families (eleven  people total) in a one room log cabin.

The Log Cabin Christine and her family lived in the first winter in Minnesota

It was Christine later known as R.A. Peterson who made the apron.  Long enough to be cut down and still be long enough to cover someones knees.  Jackie’s great grandmother  must have made it in the early 1900′s, to wear over a floor length skirt.  The embroidery on the apron is the type popular with Swedish immigrants.

Jackie’s Grandpa Chester and Grandma Esther

It was Jackie’s Grandmother Esther, (R.A. Peterson’s daughter) a school teacher, who pinned the note onto the apron.  Always ready with a rubber band or pin to cob something together, Esther was also always a ready to give a history lesson which is just what she did by leaving the note in the pocket of the apron.   Anna, who “cut the apron short” was Esther’s sister.

A recent family reunion at the one room cabin

Recently, Jackie attended  a family reunion at the one room cabin which was preserved and moved to it’s present location in 1959.

I don’t know if Jackie would have eventually found the note in the pocket of the apron she always believed was a wedding gift to her mother.   But I’m glad I noticed it on the floor of my studio and decided to open it up instead of just tossing it in the trash or vacuuming it up.

You can read more about Jackie’s Grandma Esther on Jackie’s blog Quilt of Missing Memories.

My Yellow School House Studio

Yesterday I finished the job that Jon and I started last fall, painting two sides of my School House Studio.  We’ll tackle the south side another weekend and leave the back, which was never painted, for last.

Ma, Zelda, Suzy, Socks and Tess in the back.

It’s shearing time again.  On Monday around noon, Jim McCrea will be here relieving the sheep of their wool coats.   The yarn will probably be ready sometime in  October.  I already have a nice list of people who want to buy it.  And I’ll have a bit more than I did the first time because I’ll be able to use Ma’s fleece too.

Florence’s old mower is spitting rocks  at my studio and I have to admit I’m a bit envious of Jon mowing the lawn.  Even though I love my work, on spring days like today, I really just want to be outside, gardening or mowing.

That’s the back of Jackie’s quilt hanging on the wall.  To make it I used pieces from two of Jackie’s husband’s shirts and her red and white checkered table cloth.  The flowers come from the collection of Laura Israel’s fabric (Vintage 1974).  The colors are just right and I like the juxtaposition of the flowers and grids.

The front of the quilt is laid out on the floor upside down.  I stitched a piece of white fabric over the area where the  woven scarf is because there were spaces in the weave big enough to see the batting.   Don’t want the batting coming through the front of the quilt.

This old Campbell’s soup can was one of the few things left  in my studio before we fixed it up.  It was filled with nails and I imagine it belonged to Harold, Florence’s husband who used the building as a workshop.

Tara left  this poem by Jane Kenyon on my comments.  It reminded her of the safety pin on the apron.  It’s just what I was trying to say.

Finding A Long Gray Hair

I scrub the long floorboards
in the kitchen, repeating
the motions of other women
who have lived in this house.
And when I find a long gray hair
floating in the pail,
I feel my life added to theirs.

By Jane Kenyon

I heard a whining outside my studio.  When I looked out my open window Frieda was standing there, looking in.  “What is it,” I asked her.  She just gave me those eyes. I almost gave her a dog biscuit then quickly realized this was a sure way to get her to whine outside my window when ever she was outside and I was in my studio.