A Drop in the Ocean by Polly Pullar

Author:Polly Pullar [Pullar, Polly]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Biography & Autobiography, Military, History, General
ISBN: 9781780272368
Google: VZyRoAEACAAJ
Publisher: Birlinn, Limited
Published: 2014-08-15T02:48:04+00:00

The Merino Tup

When Jenny decided that she would like to try to spin some finer wool instead of the usual island fleeces, she looked into buying a Merino tup. She and Lawrence found one of the very top Merino breeders in Scotland – a man who was so serious about the production of the world’s finest wool that he sent his fleeces by air to Victoria in Australia to have them properly graded – and a tup was duly found for Muck. When it eventually arrived, it was hoped that by using him on their ewes the isle of Muck fleeces could be vastly improved and subsequently become more valuable once hand spun.

Shearing Merinos, with their mass of delicate, wrinkled skin folds and different stapled fleece, usually referred to as fibre, is no easy task. When it was time to remove the new boy’s jersey, there were problems. After a great deal of trouble, the poor beast was left looking like a shag-pile rug. As well as having his beautiful fibre slightly marred, Lawrence and Jenny had also succeeded in cutting some of his skin folds, too. ‘It was really awful,’ says Jenny. ‘We just had no idea at all and made a total mess of it.’

Though the tup quickly recovered from his accidental cuts and the indignity of having his beauty spoilt, the repercussions of their lack of experience came home to roost the following year. The new Australian lad was put to a select a few ewes at that time and appeared to be working well. When it came to lambing time, though, not a single ewe bore fruit. Lawrence and Jenny, thinking that he was surely infertile, felt that perhaps they had literally had the wool pulled over their eyes. On closer inspection, however, it was revealed that this was far from the case. Their clipping had been so bad that they had managed to leave a pad of dense matted wool right over his pizzle, with the result that the frustrated animal must have been trying his utmost to perform to no avail. It was a case of literally having the wool pulled over the penis rather than the eyes. Luckily, as they both have a superb sense of humour, they saw the funny side.

The following spring they did get some lambs from him, and they were much easier to shear because they were not pure Merinos, but it still seemed impossible to make more money from spinning the better quality wool. I suggest to Lawrence that perhaps they had missed a golden opportunity – a golden fleece, in fact . . . that they could have fleeced people by marketing Isle of Muck exclusive Merino wool condoms – he laughs loudly: ‘Jenny was not really doing much spinning anyway, when we got that tup, and can you believe it, he cost £500 too, at least the equivalent of £1,000 today? Jenny is very good at spinning, but the problem is she tends to fall asleep

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