Black Sheep Gathering (Oregon, USA)

Article by Karin Forno

 

Day 1—Friday 6/23/06

 

Hardly able to contain my excitement, and unwearied by my 10 hour drive yesterday, I arrive at 8:15 and plunge into the building labeled clearly “The Black Sheep Gathering.”

 

I peer around eagerly while shopkeepers bring in boxes and arrange displays. I stop at the information booth and ask for a show schedule, having misplaced mine. The man hands me one, but states, “We don’t open until 9.” Sheepishly (sorry, couldn’t resist that one) I find my way out the door and wonder why I’d had 8:30 so firmly in my head. I glance at the schedule. The classes start at 8:30, as does the sheep show. It’s just the trade show that doesn’t open until 9 am. Whew. I haven’t lost my mind yet.

 

I amuse myself by wandering around the sheep pens. I am fascinated by seeing, in the flesh, breeds I only knew by their fleece or by pictures—Merino, Blue Faced Leicester, Jacob, Navajo-Churro, Shetland, and many others. The sheep are so funny, too. So different. Some lie peacefully on their bedding while others bleat plaintively and some appear to be busy eating their bedding. Others have been provided fodder in bags or basins which they chomp on eagerly. Many of them clearly see the approach of a human as something important, and stop whatever they’re doing to make eye contact with me. Do they expect food? A scratch on the head? Signs say we’re discouraged from touching the animals, so I don’t offer the latter, and I don’t have the former.

 

After wandering around for a while, I sit down on the bleachers by the show ring. A small group of five sheep have been led into the ring, held by their very patient breeders. They are Navajo-Churro, and they seem pretty different from each other—one ram seems 50% larger than the others, and one has nearly straight horns while the rest curl. The judge painstakingly looks over each animal, looking at teeth, body structure, wool, and stance. He explains in detail what he found on each sheep and why he placed them as he did. The straight-horned black sheep gets first place.

 

At intervals during the judging, I get up to give my back and rear a break and head over to the trade show, now open. I’ve heard T-shirts can be hard to get without standing in line, so I buy one first. No lines this early in the show.

 

I then wander around to see what catches my eye as special or out of the ordinary. I wish I could buy something from every vendor; then I’d be doing them justice. But my budget limits me to buying a few things that are truly special. These are hard to choose. Multicolored rovings by the dozens, yarns of every color and description, natural colored fibers and rovings of every shade, wheels, drum carders, spindles, and so much more tempt me. The displays are all gorgeous and individual.

 

When I return to the sheep show, Shetlands are being judged. Near my seat a little young ewe keeps bleating, obviously complaining. Although a boy tending her pays her lots of attention, petting her and rubbing her nose, she keeps complaining. I suspect she dislikes being tied up. Still, her cries are so expressive that she gets many of us laughing.

 

I take a break for lunch. I had heard there would only be one food vendor, which is true, although they make an attempt to provide a variety of food. I visited a 7-11 last night and bought sandwich makings and soda. I eat outside at a bench, more quickly than I intended. There is so much to do!

 

This afternoon I have a class with Jill Laski entitled “Reduce, Reuse, Recycle.” It’s all about using up your odds and ends of fibers and yarns left over from other projects. Jill lets us use her motorized drum carder to create new multicolored blends. She also lets us try her “blending board,” a flat piece of heavy carding cloth mounted on a wooden base to blend snippets of yarn and even fabric in with fiber to create new blends. The third station is for over-dyeing yarns. We all spend three hours playing to our heart’s content, although the favorite station is the drum carder. Someone offers to buy Jill’s motorized drum carder from her.

 

I just signed up for a Saturday am class that requires 8 oz. of yarn. I didn’t bring any undesignated yarn with me, so it’s a great excuse to visit the trade show again. I find 2 large skeins of pink and blue yarn for an amazingly low price, and I snatch it up. (Later, I liked the yarn so much I tried to buy more of the same color, but it was gone. I should have bought more!) I also buy a new niddy-noddy, my old one having lost one of its heads, and 2 skeins of mohair-merino sock yarn.

 

I finally decide it’s time to quit for the day, and leave with my new multicolored fibers and yarn, eager to play with them some more in my motel room.

 

Day 2—Saturday, June 24, 2006

 

I begin the day with a walk over to the John O’Hara Catholic school where I am taking a class on knitting cables. Why, you may ask, since I already know how to knit cables? I am looking for tips, little bits of knowledge. I gain them. Our instructor, J.C. Briar, is a technical editor and cables expert who explains everything in a very detailed, precise way. I especially enjoy her information on how to “read” your knitting, and how to drop stitches to fix mistakes.

 

I have the afternoon free, because I want to go to the wool show and sale. I have in mind getting either a dark brown fleece or a Jacob. I stand in line waiting to view the fleeces, pick out a few candidates, and leave before the allotted half hour is up.

 

They then close the doors for half an hour before the show starts. I kill time by—what else? shopping. I buy more painted rovings and a couple of books. Finally it is time for the wool sale to start. I wait until the first crowds have gone in, wanting to avoid waiting in the sun in line. Fortunately, several of my chosen fleeces are still available. I hesitate over a lovely long stapled deep brown fleece, but finally settle on what appears to be a lamb fleece—a fine and relatively short stapled deep black and white Jacob fleece that only weighs 1.9 lbs. It won’t add too much to my fleece collection.

 

Back to the trade show. I buy Socks that Rock and some ribbon yarn as well as some picked dyed mohair locks. I also spend some time viewing the Fiber Arts entries. They are amazing—hand spun hand knit alpacas in a color pattern on a sweater, gorgeous shawls, and a needle felted rainbow trout that is just amazing.

 

I take a break to escape the heat and let my head clear and buy an iced latté and also buy some cookies to bring to the potluck. I return and spend some time chatting with some of the other attendees.

 

After what seems like a very long time, the potluck finally starts. Averse to lines, I wait a while before lining up for food. This turns out to have been a mistake. The fresh fruit and salads are almost all gone. Fortunately, there is plenty of lamb and potato salad, as well as dessert, so I don’t exactly starve.

 

After the potluck there is another wait, this time in the hot and stuffy sheep barn, for the Spinners’ Lead to start. I am desperate to see this event but it is sweltering and the bleachers are hard, so waiting is difficult. The poor sheep are all panting and look fairly miserable. Once the event starts, though, all discomforts are forgotten. The garments are beautiful and creative and the sheep are charming. Our emcee, Trish, is very entertaining and keeps us excited.

 

While the judging is being decided, we watch a skit produced by two growers and spinners from New Zealand. Their volunteers are each to pose as sheep being judged. The skit stops just short of being unmentionable, and the volunteers get into their roles as sheep, bleating persuasively.

 

Next the prizes are awarded. First prize for an owner goes to a beautiful pi are square shawl spun from brown and cream Shetland, and first prize for a non-owner goes to a brown and cream poncho. (I apologize, I didn’t get the maker’s names.) Prizes include 50 dollar gift certificates for the first place winners, and the others received handspun, hand knitted purses from one of the guilds.

 

I’ve been sweating bullets for the last 1 ½ hours. Time to get home, shower, and crash.

 

Day 3—Sunday, June 25, 2006

 

First thing Sunday I attend a class taught by Diane Bentley-Baker on “Bouclé without Tears.” She teaches a four-step process including rolling the bouclé onto a TP core and evening the loops at that time so that the final plying operation doesn’t involve distributing the loops as well. The class is well attended, including a dog (a service animal, a very well-behaved greyhound).

 

After class I just *have* to buy some mohair top to make bouclé. I find some in five colors!

 

After lunch, is my last crack at shopping. OK, so I’ve exceeded my budget by about 300 percent, but I can’t help myself. There are so many wonderful fibers. I stop by the alpaca building, and am struck by the adorableness of the alpacas, especially the crias. I buy some black alpaca, some blue carded alpaca, and some hand-painted silk.

 

I haven’t attended any demonstrations, so I decide to check some out before the show closes. These are free, held in a corner of the trade show building. The first one is a spindling class taught by Diane Bentley-Baker, my teacher of the morning. She shows us twenty or more different spindles and describes ways to ply from spindles, including Andean plying, plying from a ball, and plying from a cone slipped onto a Lazy Kate. I am so inspired I immediately dash to the nearest vendor to buy a Bosworth top whorl spindle. Maybe I can spin the pygora I recently bought with it.

 

The next demonstration, the last of the gathering, is on mohair. The demonstrator (so sorry, I didn’t get her name) shows how to spin mohair fine and hard-twisted for bouclé and how to core-spin it into a fluffy yarn. She makes it looks so easy, but warns us it isn’t. At home, I find it nearly impossible. But I’m going to keep practicing!

 

One last quick look at the vendors to make sure I haven’t left without something I can’t live without, and the Gathering is over. Everyone is sad to see the weekend come to a close. But fiber and more spinning await me at home, and I will never forget those beautiful sheep and alpacas that so graciously share their fiber with us, nor their patient breeders who are so dedicated to their work.

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