Our boys have had their yearly day at the beauty parlour.
The guy that we bought them from; André very kindly arrives each year to shear them of their woolly coats. It is a bit later than normal as the weather has not been so good and additionally, André's llamas are in the process of giving birth.Unfortunately, our furry family are not too appreciative of the process but I am perfectly sure that they do appreciate the freedom they must feel when being divested of their winter overcoats.
I am not there for the unveiling, as I hop over to André's and keep an eye on his female's where a birth may be immanent. So while André & Martin have a gruelling 3 hours or so, I sit in the peace at André's and wander up to the field every once in a while to check his lady llamas.
His house and land are situated in a beautiful location and I happily watch his herd and my heart melts at the sight of the new borns. They are full of the joys of living and they skitter about on their long legs that hardly seem sturdy enough to support them.
They are almost too cute. I would love to cuddle them but of course, I know that I can’t. Andre adopts a policy of very little handling in the first 6 months. This is so that he won’t end up with a problem llama later on. If llamas are handled by humans from a very early age, they don’t learn to differentiate between their species and ours and due to this, they can become difficult and sometimes dangerous when older.His little cat often comes and sits with me.
After a blissful time at André’s, I return home and it always makes me laugh, just how different our boys look after being sheared. So much smaller for a start and (but don’t tell them I said this) quite comical too!
We have someone who takes the wool to spin and work with. We are very happy that someone wants to use it. I am really excited at the prospect of them coming to collect it this time, as when they do, they are bringing me a little surprise that they have made from the last lot of wool. It will be fabulous to have something made from the wool of our own llamas. I just wish that I was patient enough to learn the process but I know from experience that I am not. Years ago my Grandmother, who was an excellent knitter, tried her best to teach me but very often, the knitting and the needles, would fly across the room when I discovered yet another mistake. So it’s best for my blood pressure that I don’t try again!
À Bienôt
