Alive & Knitting

I love mohair, which is the fibre sheared from angora goats. It’s a strong fibre with a long staple; it has fabulous sheen; it takes dye beautifully. If I had to pick a favourite fibre – or one to knit with exclusively for the rest of my life – mohair would be it. No contest.

So, I was interested to learn that Rowan Yarns would be introducing a new handpainted sock yarn this month made with mohair – they are, after all, the creators of Kidsilk Haze, another bit of goaty goodness. (Kid mohair is the same fibre, except it’s sheared from kids i.e. baby goats. It’s the softest mohair.) The new yarn is called Fine Art. That’s the link to the Rowan site and here’s an interesting one to Clara Parkes’ review of the yarn itself. Here’s the pattern book Rowan has published to support the yarn—as usual, their photography is gorgeous. I like that Rowan is undertaking such an initiative, and hoping to make a difference in the lives of the people trained to make this new yarn. The Clara Parkes article increased my interest in this yarn, but it made me think local, too.

In Elora, Ontario, there is a farm and mill called Wellington Fibres. They raise angora goats, they operate a small mill to spin and finish yarn, and they also dye and handpaint their finished yarns. Their shop is like an Aladdin’s cave, with books and drop spindles, fleece for spinners and one long wall of gleaming skeins of finished yarn. Donna does the dying and Lorne runs the mill—he’s always happy to give tours, which are very interesting. I always come home with a goody bag of beautiful yarn.

But the very best time to visit them, IMO, is in the spring when the kids are being born. Their herd is almost all ewes and when angora goats have kids, they often have twins. These baby goats are incredibly cute—inquisitive and funny. (If I was ever going to have critters other than dogs, I’d have angora goats. True.) So, after reading Ms. Parkes’ article, I thought about supporting a local business by making a road trip to see the kids.

It’s not possible for me to go to Wellington Fibres and not buy yarn. It just isn’t.

We picked a good day and off we went. Miss T. came running to the car to say hello. She’s a pretty dog, a blonde setter mix, who greeted us, then returned to her post on the porch. Angora goats are about knee-high and their fleece is naturally off-white. (Although years ago, WF had a couple of black ewes, too.) Their eyes are yellow and they are curious—they look right at you, as if trying to read your thoughts. They have horns and will sometimes show their teeth, which are flat. Here’s the Wiki on angora goats, so you can see a picture. The goats at WF had been sheared this spring, so their coats were short. We saw the baby goats – there were lots of them, and they were just as frisky and inquisitive as usual.

The WF barn is divided into sections with a centre aisle. In the first section—which was a big one—there were does who had given birth in the past week along with their kids. The little ones are insanely cute, although the moms keep a wary eye on you. The does and moms know who belongs to who—the little ones find mom to nurse, and the appropriate mom moves closer if you reach to touch a kid. It’s incredible how agile they are, even when they’re new. The woman who took us to the goats said that once they have that first belly full of mother’s milk, they’re ready to go.

In the next section were half a dozen does who had yet to give birth. We could see which ones are carrying twins, because they look as if they’ve eaten packed saddlebags, and had one on each side. They’re all close to their time, so looked big and awkward. I couldn’t blame them.

On the opposite side of the barn was another big pen filled with does and kids born more than a week ago. These kids were bigger and bouncier, maybe a bit bolder. They ran and frolicked and climbed on whatever they could (including the moms, who just tolerated this. I was reminded of human moms in the supermarket with 2 year olds!) These kids tried to get through the bars to the middle aisle. They bleated more and so did their moms. They’re so curious. If you put your hand done, they’ll come to you and sniff your hand—but if you move suddenly, off they run. Then they all race around in circles together. Woo hoo! It’s a game! The woman picked one up for us so we could see it more closely—for a moment, that was fine, then the little one let out a yell that was incredibly loud.

Finally, there was a smaller section with does who hadn’t conceived this year (the woman said most of them were just yearlings) and in the last corner, the stud himself. I’m guessing this isn’t the fun part of the year for him, because he didn’t look amused.

In the summer, the goats go out into the pastures around the barn to graze. The little ones will be sheared for the first time in the fall (when they aren’t that little anymore). That will yield the kid mohair which is the softest and the best fibre. The adults will be sheared again then—they get sheared twice a year. WF has a small mill onsite at their farm where they process and spin their own fibre into yarn, as well as that of other small producers. And then there’s the shop.

What did I buy?

Two skeins of laceweight, and one of fingering weight to use with a handpainted yarn I’d bought at the mill years ago and haven’t yet knit up. The fingering weights together will become a shawl, something like Cameo. (I’ll have to do some fiddling with the yardage and gauge.) The laceweights will become another shawl, probably a 2-panel Gothic.