Last weekend we ventured out to the Cheshire plains to collect some fleeces from an alpaca farm. I had planned to drop into the farm shop, choose a couple of fleeces and leave, all within half an hour, but best laid plans of mice and men.... So, choosing a fleece was not an easy task. The farm has 80 alpacas in a range of 21 different colours. Luckily the farmer had selected 7 colours for me to choose from, but if you know me and fibre you will understand my dilemma. I finally plumped for a creamy mink and a chestnut fleece.
We couldn't go all that way (a mere 14 miles) without visiting the fluffy alpacas themselves.
What an incongruous sight - 3 fields of these gentle, timid and weird looking creatures in the middle of leafy Cheshire, noshing on the summer grass and making the oddest sounds - a cross between a falsetto horse whinny and a bee.
These two little babas were only a couple of weeks old. So sweet. How we managed to leave the farm without buying an alpaca I do not know!
In the past few days I have handspun both colours seperately and they don't half pong of gents' urinals, until they are washed. Super soft and fluffy, the yarn is well worth the effort, as it's not the easiest stuff to prepare for handspinning.
Yes, I found my dream house, bang slam in the middle of a field of alpacas, next to a field of wallabies, only to discover that it is about to be demolished.