Shearing time is one of the clearest markers of summer on our Peak District smallholding.
By June, the grass is growing faster than we can keep up with, the sheep are properly woolly, and it’s time for their annual haircut.
We don’t shear our own flock. A local farmer comes to us and to several farms and smallholdings in the area, bringing years of experience and a very steady hand.
We did briefly consider doing it ourselves once, but after the 2020 “home haircut” experiments during lockdown, we learned enough to know that sheep shearing is definitely not a DIY job we should be attempting. The sheep, quite rightly, benefit from that decision every year.
Watching a proper shearer at work is always impressive — what starts as a very woolly sheep quickly becomes a neatly shorn one, with a rolled fleece set aside beside them.
No shearing day is ever quite straightforward.
This year, one of our Ryeland sheep decided he wasn’t going happy being left until last in the shearing pen and made a determined break for it. Despite looking like he should move at a leisurely pace, he surprised everyone with a very un-Ryeland burst of speed. A brief rugby tackle later, he was safely back where he needed to be and reluctantly agreed that the haircut was happening whether he liked it or not.
Once the wool comes off, the transformation is always striking. Our flock includes Ryeland, Jacob, Hebridean and a mix of interesting crosses, so no two sheep or fleeces ever look quite the same.
Freshly shorn sheep always look slightly confused for a while afterwards, as if they’re not entirely convinced the whole thing was necessary.
The lambs are often even more puzzled — clearly recognising their mothers but spending a good amount of time staring at them as if something fundamental has changed. There’s a lot of hesitant following and confused bleating before everything settles back to normal.
Shearing is also one of the most important health checks of the year. With the fleece off, it’s much easier to check body condition, skin and general health. This year, that proved especially important when a heavily matted fleece on one of our older sheep revealed fly strike. It was caught and dealt with immediately, but it was a reminder of how quickly issues can develop in warm weather and why regular handling and inspection matters.
One of the things we enjoy most is the variety in our flock’s wool. We keep Ryeland, Jacob and Hebridean sheep, along with some particularly interesting crosses. Our Texel–Hebridean crosses are a real favourite — producing bright white fleece with those distinctive Hebridean curls running through it.
Once shearing is finished, the real sorting begins.
The best fleeces are carefully rolled, bagged and stored ready for sale. These are available in our shop as full fleeces, ideal for spinners, crafters and anyone looking for quality raw fleece straight from the farm. We also sell wool by weight for smaller projects or for those wanting to try different breeds before committing to a full fleece.
The skirtings are separated out — the belly wool, matted edges and dirtier sections from around the fleece that aren’t suitable for crafting. These are removed and disposed of, leaving only the best usable wool.
It’s a messy job, and by this point the barn usually looks like a wool explosion has taken place. Fleece ends up everywhere — on hurdles, in corners, on boots, and somehow always on your clothes no matter how carefully you try to avoid it.
Eventually, everything is bagged, sorted and cleared away, and the barn slowly returns to normal.
The shearer moves on to the next farm, and another Peak District shearing season is complete.
It’s hard work, a bit chaotic, and never quite predictable, but it’s one of those jobs that really marks the start of summer on a smallholding.