On my days off, there is always something that has to be done. Recently, that job was to shear the sheep. First, we had to split the lambs off of the moms-and they were not happy about it. I am sure you could hear the bleating all the way to Regina.
Then we had to split the ewes into the two groups - the fine wool and the Scotties (which are fine in my mind).In a couple of hours we were all ready for the shearer. Gin helped to bring them in an orderly fashion.
Cliff the shearer brought the tools of the trade - including the chute for the ladies....
....the wool bags and wool packer. Chris was packer of the wool, and with the speed of Cliff and Christine, he wasn't standing around much.
Cliff has been a shearer for 40 years, and has bent over 100,000 times. Oh, my aching back.
Christine (who I had met in Kingston with Kate Broadbent) has been all over the world. I wouldn't want to take her on with a match of arm wrestling - I certainly would lose. The speed of the two would make those who shear at the Calgary Stampede quiver.
Soon, many would be in their birthday suits.
No wool over my eyes!
The last ones to do were the rams.
Watch where you put that clipper!
Oh, the humanity!
Could you make some lambchops please (for those not hair inclined, that would be long sideburns).