Castlemilk Moorit wool: A Pleasure or a Pain?

Have you seen the video I posted about Castlemilk Moorit wool yet? If not, take a look below. In this post, I wanted to add some supplementary details about the wool and sheep, and some photos, that didn't make it into the video. The camera is pretty good, but in this case, it really didn't capture the differences I was describing. Here's the video:

First, if you want to read along, you can find the book on Amazon. Although the book covers each breed briefly, there's enough research there to launch your own personal study of breeds. That was the inspiration for the Fiber Talk series in the first place because words cannot replace tacit experience. Let your fingers do the 'reading'!

Now, here are the bits I couldn't effectively put into the video. In the photo below, you can see the color differences between the Castlemilk Moorit (foreground) and the Manx Loughtan (background). They do have a similar loft, though the Manx feels finer (the crimp feels more bendable than the crimp of the Castlemilk).

Here's how different the Castlemilk can look when overdyed (apologies for the bluish cast, it was actually a sunny day in Leicester). The differences are subtle, but I did love how enriched the greens looked:

However, the way that Manx can take on color is quite impressive. The greens for this one were slightly saddened in contrast to the more yellowish greens in Castlemilk, but that's to do with the dye mixture, not the fleece color.

As you can see, the overdye for the Manx was stronger than it was for the Castlemilk. When I dyed the Castlemilk, I aimed for 1.5% DOS (depth of shade) as a minimum, but you can tell how comparatively brown it still is. Here's the side-by-side comparison of the two:

The major difference I see is where the dye will adhere. In the Manx, it seems to be concentrated at the tips, but the whole microfibril (individual sheep hair) also takes the color, though not as strongly as at the tips. It could be just my perception of the color but it may also be a result of the way this fleece can take dyes. To contrast this, the Castlemilk will follow a similar suit, but the length of the microfibril won't be as consistent in how it takes color. In fact, some hairs do not look like they've taken any color.

Dyeing colored fleeces is always tricky. Grey fleeces tend to be a spread of white and black hairs, so it is the white ones that can establish a dramatic color shift, and the black hairs make the overall impression of the color more subdued. However, a brown fleece like these are fairly consistently brown from hair to hair. So, how well the brown will take the dye will vary. More testing with dyes is required, including subjecting the wool to the same dye bath. With that, there's always a risk that one breed will take up the color faster than the other, but that is also an interesting point to consider.

Was it a pleasure or a pain to work with? Well, as I mentioned in the video, I wasn't really in love with Castlemilk Moorit by the time I had spun nearly a pound of it. I didn't think it was a pain since it was a quick spin. I'm left hanging. I don't think I was able to fully explore the capabilities of this fleece and that's why I feel like I'm grasping for something...more.

From the Fleece and Fiber Sourcebook (2011), p. 157.

Castlemilk Moorit falls into the Northern European Short-Tailed family. The animals have horns and a reddish brown coat (from the Fleece and Fiber Sourcebook, p. 157: moorit translates 'as red as the moors'). The micron range can be quite variable, and I think this is the result of having Shetland as part of the bloodline mixture. I'm still learning about the differences between Shetland fleeces, where some are more woolly and others a mixture of hair and down (essentially, dual coated). The variability in Castlemilk Moorit, then, could be the result of some of the dual coated aspects cropping up in some individuals. In my fleece, I did note very coarse hairs with a downy-like undercoat, despite the rest of the fleece being generally woolly. You can see something of this variability in the fleece samples in the Sourcebook too:

Fleece and Fiber Sourcebook (2011), p. 158

I'll do a review on Manx and Shetland in the near future too. I have two gorgeous Manx fleeces which will be in the shop as soon as my drum carder arrives. I'll also dye some. I have very little Shetland, so I will probably be spinning that for review. They produce such small fleeces anyway, but with Shetland Wool Week around the corner, I'm hoping to get some from somewhere...I'll keep you posted on that. :)

Anyway, I hope this supplementary has helped you understand some of the nuance in this breed. It's hard to really know when all you can do is see and hear about a wool, so it's best for you to try it. I've never seen Castlemilk Moorit for sale as yarn, so if you're eager to try it out, get into contact with a spinner and a shepherd and create more avenues to praise this breed's fleece. I still believe there's more to explore with it. Thanks for reading, and post questions and comments below too!

PhD Life: It isn't glamorous...

...nor is it anything like I had expected. The thought of being Indiana Jones was one reason why I pursued my education seriously. I realized by 8th grade that to be a doctor, you needed to be smart, smarter than everyone else. So, I pushed myself to do the next level higher, taking the high-track classes rather than the average level classes. Each year, I pushed myself to the next level, never caring that I wasn't truly prepared for it. By the time I was a senior, I had taken 4 years of science (advanced biology and chemistry in the same year), 3 years of English, math, history, French, and never once gave myself a study hall. I used an academic waiver to remove the need to take P.E. (Physical Education) and spent all of my evening and weekend time studying until I went to bed. It was rare for me to have completely finished my homework each night. Sometimes I would do it before school started in the morning, or during lunch (when I would spend 30 minutes in the lab). Or sometimes, in the class just before the homework was due.

During this time, I was also a figure skater (had been since I was 2 years old), a member of a couple of clubs, a regular volunteer at the Illinois State Museum Research and Collections Center, and I worked 20 hours a week. I also had boyfriends, friends, and carried on crafting and painting and reading.

My senior year was a turning point. I had just turned 17. I began taking psychology at the local community college on Saturday mornings, for three hours. I front loaded my first semester so I could graduate early. In January 2001, I was officially a college student. I had to juggle a full 15 hour school schedule, high school final exams, a 30 hour a week job, and a boyfriend. In keeping with my goal to become smart, I took three advanced placement classes. By graduation day, June 2002, I went from being 'average' smart, to contending with the top 20% of my class inside of four years.

To say that I was wound like a tight coil would be a severe understatement. I lost a whopping 65 pounds between my sophomore and junior years. Because I had languished under my own whip to become smarter, I didn't always do well. Smart kids (those top 20% and above) ridiculed me when I would receive a failing grade on a homework, quiz, or a test. One particular episode still haunts me today. A teacher publicly congratulated me for improving my vocabulary test from a D to a B by the end of the first semester. I was humiliated at having my grades described to everyone and it did nothing to relieve the ridicule I received on a daily basis from my fellow classmates (though it was usually just a few bullies). I also hated it when some bullies started caring more about me as a person because I 'became hot' by losing weight.

You could say that I had had enough by the start of my senior year. I didn't want to be around people who didn't respect me and what I had accomplished by myself. I didn't have well-educated parents (though they were loving and supportive and made sure I knew about 'the real world'), access to tutors, siblings, or friends who could tutor me for free. I did everything through sheer force of will. And it didn't stop there.

Whenever there has been something 'hard' to do in my life, I will do it. Not for the martyrdom, to make people pity me because my efforts result in few gains. I do it for the passion. Because I am interested. I want to learn more.

I finished my bachelor's degree with a 3.76/4.0 (department GPA) and a 3.48/4.0 (overall GPA) at the University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign in 2006. My senior year at UIUC was thoroughly loaded with anthropology courses, and with that, about 500-1000 pages of required reading each week. I binge-watched anime on weekends just to have a brain-break. I also took up Kuk Sool Won and achieved first degree black belt the summer after I graduated University (2007).

And then I began pursuing higher education. In 2010, I received an MSc in Museum Studies with Merit from the University of Leicester, after having suffered the financial crisis in 2008/9, switching jobs, and working full time while living just above the poverty line. I began Expertly Dyed as soon as my dissertation was in the mail. I was halfway started when I received confirmation that I passed my degree.

After an educational hiatus, where I worked as a teacher in Korea, an independent fiber consultant, and continued on my Expertly Dyed pursuits (starting my YouTube channel in 2012), I felt that it was time to return to academia and pick up my dream where I left it five years previously.

You're probably wondering why I wanted you to know my educational history from the time I was 13 years old. Some habits die hard.

I completed my MA in Archaeology from the University of Leicester with Distinction in 2016. I presented at two conferences. I also traveled to a new corner of Britain every other weekend. I was a dancer, reenactor, department groupie, and I exercised nearly every day. I went out drinking with friends on weekends. I ate cheese and crackers for dinner on some of my busiest nights. Wednesday pub nights with the department were my one opportunity to eat a proper meal each week. I lost weight. I did nothing crafty: no spinning, knitting, weaving, dyeing...nothing. And yet I studied textile production in Iron Age Britain.

My PhD experience has been the exacerbation of all my previous experiences with education and work/life balance. I work myself to death, I don't spend enough time on me, and some days I'm frankly shocked that I haven't collapsed with exhaustion.

I concocted an entirely unrealistic future for myself when I was 13 and I continued to fall back on those outdated principles until quite recently. I thought I had to become the expert and to know everything. I grappled with impostor syndrome (like many PhD students today). I couldn't handle being told my writing was sloppy or unfocused. I nearly fainted when I was told that 'I needed to be more serious about my research' and that I 'needed to do more'. I was utterly broken. How could someone like me possibly have time to do more and be more serious? I had already received high praise in the form of a Distinction and feedback at conferences. I am 35. I have been serious about my education for 22 years. I have gone far beyond just 'doing more'. What was missing?

My biggest personal issue with my pursuit of a PhD is that I'm not Indiana Jones. Being a doctor isn't about being the smartest, per se, it's more about understanding who you are and what you need. But here's my big moment of self-reflection about my PhD:

I do what I do because I want to do it.

I am halfway through writing my PhD thesis. I have presented at 12 conferences since January 2017, with 3-4 more planned for the remainder of 2019. I have conducted 2 major experiments for my PhD research (which is not an experimental PhD), with 2 more scheduled for September. I have met with senior academics in Iron Age studies and textile studies. I've done these things because I wanted to do them. I want to present high quality research and hold myself accountable because I have deeply critiqued my own work and the work of my predecessors. I want to develop textile archaeology to be the mainstream topic of study it deserves. I can't do this alone, nor am I alone. I am there, in a community, of similarly minded people who do what they do because they want to do it. 

This brings me to my final point about work/life balance. If I was told to do 6 conferences a year by my supervisors, and I had to do it, I would probably stress out. I would cry. I'd be anxious and work 15 hour days and on weekends. If anything were to set me off, I would probably have a complete breakdown with collateral damage. My work would be my life. I'd have no way of disengaging. I would probably binge drink (which I nearly started to do at the start of 2019). And worse, it would feel inescapable.

Something I didn't know about myself is that I am incredibly self-motivated by difficult tasks and I think the reason why I have managed to accomplish so much was because I knew my limits. I enjoy being busy and productive. I like being able to do 10 different activities in a day. I like keeping a schedule. I like being a part of things. When I do feel stressed out, anxious, depressed, exhausted, lethargic, etc., it's because I'm not keeping a good work/life balance that is suitable for ME. 

Sneak peek at the new series I'm launching on YouTube!

It is important to be introspective, and the demanding work of a PhD project can often prevent you from reflecting on yourself, your motivations, your needs. I need to be writing up my chapter on needles right now, but my need to share these thoughts has superseded my need to write my chapter. I won't fret about my chapter writing because I have a plan. It is scheduled to be worked on today. I want to write this chapter on needles. I submitted an abstract for a conference this morning and I worked on a journal article submission. Later, I will finish my weaving experiment today and get ready to pack up for the European Archaeological Association conference. I want to do these things. I am happy, stressed, excited, and a bit anxious. My life as a PhD student is the opposite of glamorous--certainly, no one will be writing 'Love You' on their eyelids any time soon. It's an exercise in coordinating 10 spinning plates with just my two hands. But I know that if it all becomes too much, or I need help reassessing my work/life balance, there are people out there who want to raise awareness for mental health issues among PhD students.