The last week and a bit we have been shearing the sheep. Of course when I say “we” I actually mean the sheep have been shorn by the shearers, while Country Boy and his father move sheep around, press wool, and do all those other things that need to be done so that the shearers can actually shear. I have nothing to do with it at all.

Once the sheep has been shorn, the rouseabouts gather up the fleece, and throw it on to the wool table. There is a real technique to throwing the fleece so that it falls evenly on the table. Once it is on the table, it is skirted (the daggy bits are pulled off) and then classed.