Knit Frocks and Wool Socks: A Season with Fiber: March 1st. Has spring sprung?

Well, saying that spring has sprung might be a bit of a jump (um, spring?). I'd like it to happen sooner rather than later, though. The bees are itching to venture out of the hive (and doing so even before they should, leaving the snow speckled with those unfortunate bees that don't make it back to the hive), the ewes are ready to lamb, and I'm ready to shed mittens and scarves and exchange winter boots for mud season boots. Well alright, we're still under a few feet of snow, and though the sun is shining brilliantly today, it's supposed to snow again tomorrow and then AGAIN this weekend. Weather gods: I'm ready for mud season! I'd like some squishy mud between my toes.

Okay, there's no denying it: we still have snow.

I've been spinning away semi-industriously (that is, whenever I have a moment), and am up to five skeins now, so just about a pound, I hope. My intention is to spin two skeins a week, but my schedule seems to vary madly and uncontrollably. Today, for example, I've got some pork liver and shoulder thawing out from our butchering last week for a little paté-making operation. When will I make the paté? Time flies... Perhaps I'll catch a moment between 11 pm and midnight? I've already diced it and stirred it all up with bay leaves, dry thyme from the garden, and some salt and black pepper. The next step is grinding the meat and cooking up some scallions to go in the paté, making a panada, and simmering the paté dish in a waterbath till it's done. And then of course ––eating.

I went for a walk down to the farm today, trying to catch some vitamin D, and took some pictures of our fiber-y friends who reside down there. The sheep are new arrivals from Bonnieview Farm, and they are much more curious and personable than our last flock. These came right up to me when I was photographing them, sniffing my hands and the camera, and peering at me with those wise old sheep eyes. They are bred to be dairy sheep, but someone always saves a few fleeces, and with a bit of elbow grease, those grease-fleeces clean up well.