First Person
Life with Wool: Our Journey Begins
Greetings from Maine!
I’m writing to you from beside the old rusty fire pit, where I’ve set up a small fire to ward off the chill that always arrives in early September. It’s a sudden, sharp bite that signals our natural world has begun its poignant and pivotal shift toward autumn.
We entered the month innocently enough, still in our flowy linens and flip flops, with sunscreen at the ready and plans for at least one more dip in the ocean.
But all that ended, as it does every year, on the Tuesday after Labor Day. That’s when the Blue Hill Fair closes and the big Ferris Wheel gets unbolted, loaded on the truck, and trundled out.
That’s when Mother Nature lets out a great bit sigh of relief, kicks off her shoes, dons the comfy pants, and gives the sun permission to go to bed early.
Those early sunsets signal to the geese and the vireos, parulas, warblers, and dozens of other birds that it’s time to pack their bags and head south. They also send me straight to the hall closet for my wool.
Sweaters stay in storage this month, it’s a wool shirt I seek, a prized Ralph Lauren find at a Goodwill. It’s thick and sturdy with gorgeous autumnal shades of goldenrod and asters, changing leaves, a streak of brilliant blue sky, and bands of black marking early sunsets and the return of darkness.
I drape the shirt over my knees and give the fire a stir.
Maine is a state of many seasons. Not just spring, summer, autumn, and winter—although they do a good job of expressing themselves.
We also have mud season, blackfly season, mosquito season, lobstering season, blueberry season, deer-hunting season, ice-fishing season, and, of course, a frenzied tourist season that doesn’t extend much beyond an equally frenzied garden season.
Note that I said nothing about wool season, for the simple reason that there is no such thing as wool season, not in Maine, not anywhere. That would be as preposterous as suggesting chocolate or coffee or oxygen had a season.
Wool is eternal, like a magic Swiss Army knife with blades and tools and gadgets to prepare us for any eventuality life may throw at us, 365 days a year.
Sometimes wool’s utility is obvious, like when it appears in blankets or socks or sweaters. But it also has more obscure moments that I love dearly, like when I need to fix a drafty chimney or window, prevent a sunburn, feed my tomatoes, or keep the winter blues at bay. Life with wool is fun.
So I propose that we walk through the seasons together, through my seasons, celebrating all the ways wool touches my world. Starting here, by the fire.
I think about the beautiful wool shirt covering my knees—about the world it was made for, and the world we live in now, and how wildly different the two have become.
I think about my small Maine town, whose population is barely 930.
As recently as 100 years ago, this same town managed to support six general stores and a range of industries including lumber, lobster, granite, ice, hay, and porgy oil. We even had a small woolen mill that, according to the 1907 edition of the Blue Book Textile Directory, had two sets of cards, 288 spindles, and two boilers for dyeing.
The lobstering continues, but everything else, including that woolen mill, is long gone. Like most of this country, Maine’s infrastructure for transforming wool into yarn and fabric has been reduced to something so small, I can’t even call it a shadow of its former self.
Woolen mills that once filled six and a half pages of that 1907 directory could barely fill a paragraph today. And one of the few surviving mills from that directory, Jagger Brothers, just announced they’re closing operations.
Another loss in a season full of endings.
It’s foolish to think we could go back to a time when every town had its own mill and enough sheep to clothe everyone. We don’t live in that world anymore.
When the light starts to change and the air gets cooler, the geese and hummingbirds and monarch butterflies and all the other migrators aren’t paralyzed with sadness.
They don’t cling to the past, they don’t stick around in denial and hope that somehow the light will magically return. They take the change as a signal to act. They keep moving forward.
And so, while our resident chipmunk ferries seeds to his secret hiding place and the dragonflies feast on the last of the mosquitoes, I’ll put one more log on the fire. Together, we can get on with the business of moving forward.
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What cozy reading! Yes, here in Massachusetts too there’s a welcome subtle nightime chill in the air. I am ready for it. It’s hygge from here on out! Sweaters, knitting on my lap, and a cat. This is gratitude
Some enterprising knitters started looking for a place to get their wool made into yarn, and ended up opening a woolen mill in Buffalo Wyoming that keeps expanding and now makes wonderful yarn out of wool purchased from local ranchers. Mountain Meadow Wool is a great business and they make great yarn. Not affiliated in any way other than as a satisfied customer, just eager to share a story of hope for small businesses in small towns. They did their homework and purchased old spinning machines from other mills around the country that had shut down. They tell their story on their website. Your article made me think of them.
I took a tour of Mountain Meadow Wool a couple of years ago and was fascinated with the process. It was very educational. I would definitely recommend a visit to the fun little town of Buffalo, Wyoming and Mountain Meadow wool.
Another beacon of hope is Junction Fiber Mill, in White River Junction, VT. It just opened a couple of years ago and is putting out their own yarn as well as spinning and batting for others. https://junctionfibermill.com/pages/processing
And they have a wonderful podcast hosted by the owners, Peggy and Amanda who also raise sheep. I love watching their interactions with each other. They interviewed Clara some time ago.
That’s wonderful! I will have to make plans to go visit family up in that area soon. 🙂
Thank you for this encouraging news, Meredith. I was feeling sad as I had not heard that Jagger was closing; they produce some beautiful yarns. But I’ll be researching Mountain Meadow Wool – hopefulness!
Wonderful article! Here in Ohio fall hasn’t arrived yet; we are still in shorts and tank tops. Doesn’t feel right! Here’s a link to the upcoming Vermont Sheep and Wool Fest for you fiber lovers out there:
https://vtsheepandwoolfest.com/
The timing of this is perfect! I, too, welcome Fall. And wool. And Clara’s books. I spent yesterday combing through The Book of Wool and the Book of Yarn, searching for the answer to a longstanding (and annoying) question: Why does my yarn (the working yarn) kink so much when it comes off the skein I wound into a cake? By the time I knit a row- or a few stitches in a long row- it’s doing its twirly thing. I’m auditioning a yarn for a sweater and I know I’d give up if I had to keep straightening it so often. So, why does it do it and what can I do to correct it?
Many thanks for any help.
You may try rewinding it again a second time the opposite direction to get the kinks out☺️
I vaguely recall reading that when the yarn does its loopty loop out of your cake, it’s something to do with the twist of the yarn and the way the yarn was twisted to get into the cake…. I think it was an Ask Patty question? I don’t recall what the “fix” was though…. Me? If it gets to the point of bothering me, I hold onto the cake and let my project spin around to unkink the working yarn. Entertaining to my cat and somewhat effective at relieving the kink.
I have seen people put the yarn in a bowl on a lazy susan, mainly I think for colorwork. Could it help?
I’ve heard that if you use it from the other end, that might solve your issue. So if you are pulling from the outside, try pulling from the inside, or vice versa.
Try putting your ball on a spare straight needle poked through a shoe box so the yarn spins freely (you’ll need to pull from the outside). Also putting the ball level with the knitting so you’re not pulling up on the yarn, which can add twist. Or rewind the ball from the outside in, which can remove twist which was added in making the ball.
If none of that works, practice acceptance of the yarn as it wants to be?
Thank you! I appreciate the suggestions and will give them a try. Including the acceptance part!
I had this same frustration when I was knitting my Shakerag top. These are all great suggestions, and I love “Including the acceptance part!”. Thanks to both of you for sharing. ~ Kim
Your writing is the highlight of my mornings, maybe my day. Your writing brings a fresh respite to the gloom, doom and constant election frenzy which constantly bombards us.
You have inspired me to leave my air pods at home and look around me as I wander out into the daylight for my daily walks with my four legged friend. He, by the way, agrees. Smell and see the world around us! Listen to the birds.
Moving forward…
Thank you so much, Mary!
What a beautifully written article and so, so true.
Thank you. Clara
Thank you for sharing Maine’s many attributes. Saddened to hear that the Jagger Mill be closing–a loss to local, state, and wool communities.
Ah yes, Clara describes the Maine life, at least as i experience it, perfectly! This morning is the first day of my fire in my wood stove. Tomato sauce season is in full swing.
Bartlett yarn is still up and running !
Indeed Bartlett is the last remaining Maine mill in that Blue Book that’s still operating! And long may it continue to do so.
I am visiting Maine right now (staying with a fellow knitter). We visited Jaggerspun Mill the other day and were sad to know that they are closing.
We could use more domestic fiber production but unfortunately the “Vanishing Fleece” keeps…vanishing.
This summer I visited the Grove Park Inn in Asheville, NC. There we were able to see the remains of the wool mill and a very small wool museum. Your article is a lovely tribute to the beautiful state of Maine and a reminder to seek out yarns produced in mills that still exist and not factoids in China.
I did not know there’s a small wool mill in Asheville! Sounds like a road trip is in order.
Oopsie! That was supposed to say factories not factoids.
What a wonderful, nostalgic and yet forward looking piece this is! I sit with my coffee and watch the sun rise wearing a sweater, albeit not a wool one (yet!) enjoying the coolness in the air and the words written.
I’m so jealous as I sit here in South Carolina and look at today’s forecast of 90 degrees for a high. We don’t have seasons here just summer and maybe a few days of cold weather in January and February. (Which you all would probably laugh at) That doesn’t stop me from Knitting wooly things. I still love sweaters, even if I only get to wear them once a year. I love to knit socks and hats. Our Knitting guild knits items for charity. I’m originally from Maryland so I really do miss the seasonal changes.
Wonderful! Small town living at its best.
This is so beautifully written with a nod to the past that shaped our world. In Ohio, we are just beginning to feel the coolness of autumn. This is my favorite season, but that nesting instinct is so strong! My need to fill the larder is in overdrive. How much spicy pepper relish can one person use or disburse? 🙂 This seems as ingrained in me as the migration of our local birds. I also sense a double entendre here. We can look back with great fondness, but our world changes and moves forward. Thank you so much, Clara, for starting my day with your musings.
Hello to you in Ohio! I say one can never have too much spicy pepper relish.
What a lovely read. You certainly have the ability to evoke the feeling of the season.
Thank you for that.
❤️ thank you!
Greetings from Texas — where today’s high is supposed to be 92! But I’m able to wear wool — I have undies and t-shirts from Icebreaker.
I just got home from visiting my Mom in northern Illinois and found a new mill in her little town of 1,375!! Apparently they have been operating for 11 years. I went by to check them out but all their yarn was still packed because they had been at the Wisconsin Sheep Festival the weekend before.
Jan, I would also be interested in the name of the town and mill in northern Illinois….thats where I live. Thanks, gs
I think this may be Round Barn Fiber Mill in Durand IL. https://www.roundbarnfiber.com/
I bought some of their yarn at the Wisconsin Sheep & Wool Festival.
where in Northern IL. and what is the name of the mill, please. d
Lovely!
There’s a beauty to that shoddy picker.
Junction Fiber Mill in VT was started in 2021 by sheep farmers and friends Amanda and Peggy. Their yarns are beautiful and their creativity shows in many ways- an informative podcast, fun KAL’s. Their small business is worth admiration and support.
Here in KS we do not wear wool sweaters or anything but what used to be called summer wool (lightweight wool cloth) but yes, wool is so good. This past week I was able to add a denim jacket over my tank top which felt like a victory after two weeks of 100 degrees in. September!
Lovely. Thank you.
Clara your attitude of moving forward is always A positive inspiration for me!
Lovely piece of writing! Gave me the warm fuzzies. Thank you Clara for your wonderful words❤️
Thank you Lori! I am happy to provide warm fuzzies.
Lovely! In Maryland, it has started to cool down, and I have been watching the Canadian Geese leave town. October is my favorite month. Thank you for the beautiful thoughts. I think I need to visit a Goodwill! And I am also going to read some of your books.
Hi Sandra. Knitlandia is one of my favorites!! I just love this book so much. It combines two of my favorite things-knitting and travel. One of the chapters is about the Maryland Sheep and Wool Festival, which was a fun read. (I live in Baltimore!)
Wow. This passage spoke to me on so many levels. The sheer poetry of the ponderings on the seasons, and how life will inevitably change, and maybe different isn’t bad, it’s just different. There are so many truths in this missive and a lot of wisdom in this post. What an absolute gift in this season of change.
Thank you Deb, I’m honored by your kind words!
Clara is always thoughtful about yarn, wool, knitting, and the environment, especially in Maine. We are in a cool, cloudy stretch here in Maryland. Flip-flops might be “out” here, but we usually get warm again.
Clara, your words paint pictures in my mind! What a lovely piece. You make me think of another Maine writer that I follow and who I bet you know of. His name is Tim Cotton, a former cop in Bangor. You two are kindred spirits, I think. Timcottonwrites.com. Thank you for starting my day off on the right foot!
I’m honored to be mentioned in the same sentence as Tim Cotton! He is a gift to us all.
Here on the other coast near San Francisco Bay, we’re in in-between season, where you crave that wool shirt in the early morning or late evening, but it’s 90 degrees midday. It’s definitely Fall, and has been for a few weeks. You have to pay attention, the angle of the light shifts, and everything looks different, even if I can’t haul out my sweaters and stews yet.
Clara, I have to thank you for the knit-changing “Knitter’s Book of Yarn”. I first checked it out of the library shortly after publication. I’ve never looked at a skein of yarn or a pattern in the same way since, and was fortunate to find a used copy about ten years ago which is one of my essentials. Thank you!
I’m honored to know that book has had this kind of impact, Nancy!
Beautiful, wonderful, soulful writing. I also love the picture of the open Blue Book with the finger…indents? included. I miss analog things, though I’m a super computer user. Nothing like a card catalog to get your mind connecting different things to each other. But I digress.
Thanks to the person above who mentioned VT Sheep and Wool, coming up Oct 5 & 6. I live just up and over a ridge from the charming Tunbridge Fair grounds and I would encourage anyone who has time/is close enough to come visit. I’ll be demonstrating crochet from 3-5 each day.
Such a lovely piece. Living in Southern California, we don’t have much changing of seasons. But I agree with you well does not have a season, even here. At least not for me. Thanks so much for allowing me to enjoy this change of seasons, vicariously through your lovely writings.
Oops. That should have been wool does not have a season. Darn Audio- Apparently, I slur my words. However the sentiment remains!
Don’t you worry, experience has left me quite fluent in autocorrect! And thanks for letting me take you along on my seasons here.
more about the mill and museum at the Grove Park Inn. I live 2 hours away from Asheville, go there frequently, knit with various knitting groups here in western North Carolina and had never heard about the museum. Would love to visit.
Also very sad about JaggerSpun. Anything to be done to save? I’m sure that question has been researched and considered from all sides and that the answer to close was chosen with care and regret. Perhaps we should start at the beginning, ie how many sheep are being raised and sheared in ME now? Maybe Wyoming is the answer.
Great article Clara! Wool is eternal- yes, yes it is.
“Full assortment of picker pins – round and square” – they don’t make them like that anymore.
Indeed they do not!
Thank you, Clara. I am so glad to be reading you again. I’ve read all your books and met you in SF for your reading of Vanishing Fleece. I’m an official Goodwool Ambassador & I have the pin to prove it!
MDK is a great platform to feature you (and your partner in crime, Franklin). It’s all about moving forward now & I can’t wait to read more in your series
Mary! Hello! Thank you for being here!
Always informative and always a pleasure!
I love your words, the way you use them to embellish each other in creating a place, an emotion in my mind… And, after reading anything you have written, the overwhelming Need to put my hands on some wool to spin or knit or weave or … just hug. Thank you Clara for making this woolie journey I love so much that much more delightful!
It’s an honor, Karen!
Here in Southern California, the seasons don’t amount to much until you need to turn on the A/C or the furnace. Or when that almost endless summer growing season finally sputters out somewhere around Thanksgiving. Famed TV gardening guru Monty Don yearly reminds his viewers not to anguish over that once-fine tomato vine, but rather, tell it thanks for all the tomatoes and tear it out. Its time has passed and Spring will come again.
Thanks for the reminder to cherish each season in its time and forge on to the next one.
Oh yippppeee! More of your wonderful stories about my favorite fiber…WOOOL!
Our chipmunks having been burying their sunflower seeds, etc., from the squirrel feeder in my hanging basket of fuschias. I look forward to a hanging basket of 8′ sunflowers next summer.
NEO has just started its wind down to fall- what used to change with the equinox now stutters in at October’s greeting.
I enjoyed your commentary Clara. Looking forward to the next one. Since you are a delver into the past when it comes to wool, do you suppose folks back then used the wool, as you mentioned, to fertilize gardens, keep weeds at bay, and stuff cracks and crevices while not knowing the science of the molecular structure with which it’s so beneficial? Just wondering if since we think we are smarter now, with all our science knowledge, than we were then if this is something we just instinctively did then to get by.
Just in the first few sentences, I’m sitting there, right beside you at the fire pit. Maybe you’ve found another wool shirt to cover my knees as well, since I’m easily prone to a chill in the air. Thank you for this poignant piece of writing.
Is it irony or something else, to read under from the page in your book in small print under MAINE. …..”A dagger represents a new mill or firm”
So glad Clara has joined MDK! I love her ever interesting thoughts on wool. I do not have an off season where wool is concerned and keep searching our country for some very fine yarns, wools sourced and produced in the USA. I think we are in the early stages of a renaissance in the wool world. Let’s get started!
What a beautiful tribute to the turning of the seasons and how other creatures guide us in preparing for them. Living in Piedmont North Carolina, I miss the crisp chill of fall! Thanks for evoking it, Clara!
Such a delightful column. Clara’s portrays of life in rural Maine is pure poetry.
I’m sorry to read the news that Jaggerspun Mill in Springvale is closing. I’ve been collaborating with the helpful folks at Jaggerspun for several years. We stock our Knit Fit kits with their Mousam Falls line.
Wonderful article, thank you. I am so sad and really taken aback to learn that Jagger Brothers is closing. Is there no one to keep it going? Is the cost of production exceeding what can be sold? I really want to see traditional mills survive in the US.
Just love “Mother Nature lets out a great big sigh of relief, kicks off her shoes, dons the comfy pants and give the sun permission to go to bed early”. This is a good time of year, 2nd only to spring, winter and summer. Well, just love them all!!
You’ve set the mood so winsomely, thanks Clara. Moving forward to new seasons sounds enticing and joyful! Let’s do it.
Beautifully expressed Clara, thank you.
I love everything Clara writes. Have you ever been to Nova Scotia Clara. Visit the Annapolis Valley. We have a small mill and a yarn shop on a working sheep farm. The sheep are pure Cotswold.
I loved the final sentences about not being paralyzed with sadness, but rather moving on—words to live by!