From Sheep To Shawl: Women Pass Down Tradition Of Shearing And Working With Wool

Spinning and weaving are traditions that have been handed down for generations — usually among women. But it doesn’t just begin with the wool. It starts with raising the sheep.

If you’ve ever tried to shear a sheep, you know it takes some practice. Margaret Bruning describes it philosophically.

“Somebody’s going to get cut, either me or the sheep or both of us and I’m gonna sweat my guts out. The sheep’s going to be upside down a lot, she’s not going to be that comfortable and I’m not really very proficient so it’s going to look kinda awkward…it’ll be okay.”

Bruning laughed as she shared that bit of tongue-in-cheek wisdom. It’s just one of the hard lessons she’s learned raising sheep.

Time For A Change

Five years ago, Bruning and her husband David were living in Los Angeles, California. But they were tired of the city. So, they sold most of their stuff, packed up what was left and traveled the country — working on organic farms along the way. They finally stopped in rural West Virginia which she compares to the Wild West without being west of the Mississippi.

Bruning isn’t a novice when it comes to farming. She actually grew up on a goat farm in mostly rural dairy country in upstate New York. But she didn’t know a lot about raising sheep. That’s something she’s learning from Kathy Evans… one of the owners of Evans Knob Farm in Preston County, West Virginia.
“We’re living on my husband’s family farm,” said Evans. “It’s been in the family for…well, my grandchildren will be the sixth generation that’s been on this farm.”

And within a year of buying their own farm in Randolph County, West Virginia, Bruning and her husband suddenly became the owners of a small flock of grey and black Romanov sheep.

“And I’ve been stumbling through,” said Bruning. “A lot of it’s been very hard lessons — how to keep them healthy, the right decisions to make with tiny newborn lambs.”

Nearly 20 percent of newborns die before they’re weaned, usually in the first 10 days of life.

Margaret’s Mentor

So Bruning has turned to Evans for all kinds of advice — everything from tending her flock to managing budgets.

“That’s Kathy. She’s a seasoned market gardener/farmer, her head is full of a lot of stuff. Me, I have made my sheep almost into my friends and I probably shouldn’t do that. And whenever I need to toughen up, I think about Kathy. I think that she would just buck up, and that’s what she’s coached me on.”

Another thing Evan’s coached her on? Sheep shearing.

Heather Niday
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Kathy’s wool stockings made from left over wool scraps.

Normally, you’re bent over the animal, holding it with one hand while shearing the fleece with the other. It’s awkward. And it’s physically hard. But Kathy taught her a technique that requires less upper body strength.

“We take them from standing on all fours to sitting on their butt and we cradle them between our legs,” said Evans. So, she watched that step, she helped me get the sheep set up and then watched me do the shearing and she trimmed hooves.”

Those lessons are part of a master apprentice program that Evans and Bruning are working on together called Sheep to Shawl. Shearing is just one step.

The fleece has to be washed and dried, then combed and carded before it’s ready for the spinning wheel.

Evans describes the motion.

“Your hands are doing one thing, and your foot’s doing another thing. So, I’m controlling the diameter of the yarn and the number of times it twists with my right hand and my left hand is doing a process called drafting, so I’m pulling the fiber back so that there’s not like a great big clump that goes through at once.”

Once the spinning is done, Evans winds the yarn into one large loop until she has a full skein. Then she dips it in hot water to set the twist of the yarn and hangs it to dry. Then it’s ready for knitting, crocheting or weaving on a loom like the one in Evan’s studio.

These are the tools and techniques Evans is passing along to Bruning through their apprenticeship. But it goes beyond that.

“Margaret and I were already friends before we did this, but just to strengthen that through this process and she knows I am here anytime she needs me.”

A Friend In Times of Need

Evans demonstrated that on a night not long ago. One of Bruning’s ewes was struggling to give birth. She was afraid they would lose the mother and lamb. So, she called Evans.

“David and I are both like pulling as hard as we could pull…”

And Evans could tell they had to act quickly.

Heather Niday
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Dyed wool drying in Kathy Evans studio.

“I knew exactly what they were facing. I could picture in my mind what was happening and what they needed to do.”

“Kathy just put everything down and she spent an hour on the phone with us.”

Evans was deeply encouraging, coaching with just the right tone.
“And it was like Margaret, you can do this, just encouraging her, you CAN do this. Take a deep breath, give David the phone, we can do this together. Cause I’m thinking I’m two and a half hours away from her, I can’t get to her in time to save this lamb and ewe. She has got to trust me and do what I tell her to do or we’re going to lose both of them. I walked her through the process, we had a beautiful ram lamb, she saved the ewe. She said ‘we did it’ and I said of course we did it!”

Bruning was grateful for the guidance Evans provided throughout the difficult birth.

“I felt this real true confidence having her by my side.”

Evans knew that losing either animal that night would have been devastating for Bruning.

The sheep had belonged to Bruning’s mother. She left the flock to Bruning when she passed away a few years ago. And it hadn’t been that long since her mother passed.

“It’s a grieving process that takes as long as it takes,” said Evans. As long as that original flock of sheep is with Margaret, she still has a piece of her mom.”

Bruning is grateful for Evans and her wisdom. She sees her partnership with Evans as a continuation of the traditions of so many women before her. And it’s also a tribute to her mother and the legacy she passed on to her.

“She possesses those qualities that my mom has and she utilizes those qualities and she’s been so kind towards me and very, very patient.”

For more information on the West Virginia Folklife Program, visit their website.

This story is part of the Inside Appalachia Folkways Reporting Project, a partnership with West Virginia Public Broadcasting’s Inside Appalachia and the Folklife Program of the West Virginia Humanities Council. The Folkways Reporting Project is made possible in part with support from Margaret A. Cargill Philanthropies to the West Virginia Public Broadcasting Foundation. Subscribe to the podcast to hear more stories of Appalachian folklife, arts, and culture.

Save The Forest, Get Paid: This Appalachian Farming Initiative Shows People How

Ginseng, Goldenseal, Cohosh, Bloodroot, Ramps – all plants native to Appalachia and all appreciated around the world for their medicinal and culinary properties. In West Virginia and other parts of Appalachia, these plants have been harvested in the wild for generations. But over harvesting of these slow growing plants could diminish wild populations. The West Virginia Forest Farming Initiative takes a different approach. The program teaches residents how to raise botanicals on their own forested land for a source of income and as a way to preserve the forests. And for the folks involved, it’s doing way more than preserving plants.

Learning From Family And Honoring The Past

At Sprouting Farms in Summers County, West Virginia, Ruby Daniels grows herbs like ginseng and cohosh, both as a source of income, and as a way to tap into her family’s history. In a special report as part of the Inside Appalachia Folkways Project, Heather Niday explored how herbalists and farmers, like Daniels, are teaching others to grow native Appalachian plants, like ginseng, cohosh and ramps.

Daniels’ grandmother taught her how to prepare the herbs for use in teas and salves to treat all kinds of ailments.  When she began working on a master’s degree in therapeutic herbalism, she started connecting her grandmother’s lessons with the science behind the folklore.

It’s also become a way to honor her ancestors. Daniels is a descendent of enslaved Africans brought to Virginia in the early 1600s. They brought with them a vast knowledge of herbal medicine but weren’t allowed to use it. In Virginia in the mid-1700s, enslaved people were forbidden to use herbs, a practice that was punishable by death, said Daniels. Now, when she makes teas or tinctures, she connects the science with the spirit. 

“I listen to my inner healer. Commonly I might say, ‘Oh this person might need peppermint,’ but when I really work with them another herb is calling to me and I add that. When it all comes together, that formula makes sense for them.”

Daniels was born and raised in Maryland but spent her summers at her grandmother’s home in Beckley, West Virginia. It was there in her grandmother’s kitchen that she first started learning about native plants.  

“I was always hanging around her and then I’d talk to her; she would always say ‘the moon gotta be dark when you plant potatoes and onions,’ so that’s a new moon, she was a moon planter, she planted by the moon. She just was so earthy.”

Her grandmother inspired her to experiment with her own concoctions, even as a young child.

“I was wild,” Daniels recalled. “I’d get apple blossoms and just make up recipes — so I was making herbal baths before I knew that’s what I was gonna be. She just let me. Once I got older and interested, I’d just talk to her. You know, there was always somebody in the Black community that knew some type of remedy for something.”

Sprouting Farms, where Daniels works, is part of the West Virginia Forest Farming Initiative, a program that teaches residents how to raise native plants on their own forested land as a source of income and as a way to preserve the forests.

Credit Heather Niday
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Ginseng bed at Ed Daniel’s Farm with tree limbs are laid across it to discourage deer from eating the plants.

Tapping Into The Forests To Earn Money

As part of her training in growing botanicals, Daniels is working with the Yew Mountain Center in Hillsboro, W.Va. She said this educational aspect of her work is a way to help her community and give back to the land. “By conserving endangered plants like ginseng, or blue cohosh, or black cohosh, false unicorn…that’s how I would like to work with the community and bring some type of way people could have an income.”

Ginseng, goldenseal, cohosh, ramps, bloodroot. These are valuable, well-known plants that grow wild in these mountains.  While some state residents may be able to identify them, many of them face threats because of things like overharvesting, habitat loss and climate change.

The Yew Mountain Center offers seminars and hands-on training about how to cultivate wild plants to build a forest farming business. Mature goldenseal root, for example, sells for up to $40 per pound and demand is growing during the pandemic.

Larger herbal manufacturers are looking for a stable supply chain. Yew Mountain Center director Erica Marks said herbal companies want to assure their customers that the plants are from sustainable and verifiable sources. “It’s very pragmatic, because it’s their supply, their products depend on it.” Marks said part of the forest farming program is teaching people how to become certified growers to get a higher price for their crop.

Credit provided / Yew Mountain Center
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Yew Mountain Center
Erica Marks and Will Lewis

It starts with knowing the locations where the herbs will grow best, said Will Lewis, forest farming coordinator at the Yew Mountain Center. “The main thing you want to look for is a semi-mature mixed hardwood forest, where you’ve got some older trees,” Lewis said. Trees like sugar maple and other plants like trilliums and mayapples can also signal the forest is healthy, a place where wild plants will grow well.

Many of the native plants grow well with calcium, Lewis said. “Sugar Maples’ leaves have higher calcium, so every year fall when those leaves break down in the soil, it’s kind of like a calcium fertilizer,” said Lewis.

On a gentle slope just up the hill from the Yew’s lodge, three-inch-tall goldenseal plants grow about three feet apart. The plants start as seeds closely planted together in nursery beds.  After a couple of years of growth, they’re transferred to the forest, usually in the fall when sufficient rain has fallen to create a moist, loamy soil. 

Forest farming is an investment in time. Most of these plants take several years to flower and produce seeds. Erica Marks said finding a place to grow these plants can also be an issue in a state with a lot of privately-owned forest land. 

“That is a nut we need to crack,” Marks said. “How do we increase access for people who want to do this?” Marks said one solution would be if growers could work out special forest farming leases with landowners.

Master Growers Teach The Next Generation Of Growers

Marks said the forest farming program at the Yew Mountain Center is still pretty new. So, they get a lot of help from veteran botanical growers, like Ed Daniels (no relation to Ruby Daniels). He and his wife Carole own a forest farm near Pickens, W.Va. and produce a variety of botanical oils, tinctures and salves that they sell online and in some local stores.

Credit Heather Niday
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Ed Daniels on the porch at his forest farm near Pickens, W.Va.

Daniels is also a master artist in the West Virginia Folklife Apprenticeship Program, through the West Virginia Humanities Council. As part of that program, he’ll work with an apprentice over the next year to pass on the skills he’s acquired over a lifetime.

“As a young kid I grew up in a poor lifestyle,” Daniels said. “Ginseng was a way for me to earn money to get my school clothes and shoes and jeans.”

Daniels admitted that a desire for money pushed him to take more of the wild ginseng than he should have. As he got older he saw the effects overharvesting had on wild ginseng. Areas where he used to find wild ginseng were depleted. To atone for the mistakes of his youth, Daniels said he plants about 70,000 ginseng seeds every year.

Mature ginseng plants produce a tight cluster of bright red berries. After the berries ripen and fall off, the plant is left with a scar near the top of the root. Daniels said the scar on a fresh root is proof the plant was harvested in season. That’s important because ginseng can only be legally harvested in the fall; it’s the most highly controlled botanical in West Virginia.

And it’s by far the most lucrative. Daniels said in the current market, high quality dried ginseng root can fetch up to $800 a pound.

Daniels is also interested in what ginseng can do for those suffering from opioid abuse. “I’m treating three guys right now in the town that I live in who have suffered and are currently battling opioid addiction,” Daniels said. “The doctors took them off. They’re using our CBD oil and the ginseng tinctures.” 

Daniels said the ginseng is helping the men to wean themselves off the opioid drugs. Ginseng has been used for thousands of years in traditional Chinese medicine to treat a variety of conditions, but there’s only a handful of Western studies looking at the impact of ginseng on easing opioid withdrawal. Daniels said he doesn’t claim to know how it works, only that he’s seen results.  

“It gives [me] a warm feeling when someone uses it for the first time and two-three weeks later  [says] what a change it’s made in their life in comfort and they’re now able to sleep at night.”

This story is part of the Inside Appalachia  Folkways Reporting Project, a collaboration with West Virginia Public Broadcasting’s Inside Appalachia and the West Virginia Folklife Program at the West Virginia Humanities Council. The Folkways Reporting Project is made possible in part with support from Margaret A. Cargill Philanthropies to the West Virginia Public Broadcasting Foundation. Subscribe to the podcast to hear more stories of Appalachian folklife, arts, and culture.  

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