edited by Peter Hagerty, co-founder of Peace Fleece
The Best of times and the worst of times:
Ludmilla Korneva's flock west of Moscow had gown to over twenty head "The demand for locally grown meat is very high right now," said Ludmilla. "The drop in the ruble has virtually shut off all foreign imports so people drive all the way from Moscow for our lamb." Ludmilla had been busy this fall spinning and dyeing yarn from her wool and knitting lovely socks and is very excited about their appearance in our catalogue. Tamara Bruzova south of Moscow had a bad haying season and had to sell all but eight of her breeding ewes but her hogs and milk cows looked in great shape. Hospitalized last fall with a "blood disease" she has made a total recovery by drinking fresh milk laced with a Tibetan garlic preparation. In her mid-seventies, she has color back in her face and a wiggle in her walk. Surrounded by a new business partner, farm manager and non-drinking farm help, she orchestrated a New Year's meal for us in the tiny kitchen of her log house.
Returning to Moscow, we visited with Luba's 81 year old parents Tatiana and Vacili Fralov. Every time I come to Moscow I try to visit with them. Both born and raised in a small Russian village, Vacili went off to war in 1940 and didn't see Tatiana for 6 years. As they sit in their small single room apartment, I am reminded of the many sacrifices this country and its people have made. "To ply yarn together," Luba says, "the Russian word for this is very old, ‘cy-cheat’. To run your fingers up and down to make the ply even, this is ‘strasteet’ which means ‘spiritual passion’. To spin is to touch the spirit of Russia." Never complaining of her hard life and always busy, Taitana has been busy knitting for Peace Fleece and Vacili has shown his son Ivan how to make the traditional drop spindle used for centuries in the Russian countryside.
Flying from Dallas to San Angelo, you cross over central Texas' large flat agricultural belt and then you meet what they call the Edward’s Plateau, thousands of acres of rolling pasture covered with juniper and mesquite. The Turner family came here from England in the 1870's and settled on the banks of the Concho River and began raising Rambuiollet sheep, known for their fine wool and hardiness. Tim met me at the airport and over lunch informed me that I would have a truck at my disposal as well as my own house on the ranch. He had lined up all sorts of wool and mohair folks for me to see during the coming days. But arriving for supper at the Turner ranch house that night , I learned of a serious automobile accident involving some of the youth from their church. Although no one was seriously injured, the wreck would keep several regular cowpokes from the following day's roundup for shearing. Over strenuous objections from my gracious hosts, I said I would be happy to forego the meetings and saddle up.
"This is a most dangerous period for Russian-American relations", my friend Arkadi said as we drove through the early January evening returning from a farm west of Moscow. "My father and I had a great argument. He is a very intelligent and liberal man. But he voted for Zhyrinovsky the ultra-nationalist fascist in the last election. He later changed his mind but for a moment he was lost."
Last August, the Russian ruble experienced a free fall. Banks shut their doors to customers and went bankrupt over night. Prices shot up is stores and there was panic buying of foodstuffs. As the ruble continued to fall, overseas investors began flocking out of the country and wealthy Russians began buying American dollars as fast as they could, stashing them is mattresses and Swiss bank accounts. Many people lost their life savings overnight.
"Not so long ago Russia was a superpower," Arkadi added. "Now we are an economic joke. We watch our American friends enjoying unparalleled economic prosperity and when you invade Iraq, we set up eight intercontinental ballistic missles in Saratov. We have been humiliated, perhaps by our own failings. But nevertheless, these are every dangerous times, for he who has been humiliated needs an enemy to blame."
There had been very few signs of danger since arriving in Moscow. Unusually warm weather had blessed Russia with a mild late December. With two American friends, Anne Hayes and Josh Therriault, we began our visit exchanging holiday presents and vaccinating sheep in small Russian villages just outside Moscow. I was anxious to see how our farming friends had weathered this financial crash. Luba, our Peace Fleece Russian director and her husband Sasha, had filled our two cars with meats, breads, sweets and champagne from the city and we were determined to have the best of times in what some were calling the worst of times.
Arriving after dark at Sheplova village north of Moscow, we found Galina and Pavel Potstrelov huddled in their beds with only a small light shining in the window. They had lost their milk cow early in the fall and a farm truck had recently killed one of the guard dogs. Luba quickly set the supper table with our food and Sasha soon had a fire crackling in the fireplace. Then Pavel appeared, shaven and donning a new pair of pants and Galina swept in with lipstick and a floor length frock. After a long supper with many toasts to the New Year, we danced the Hebrew "Hava Nagila" to welcome in the New Year.
Anne Hayes and I had grown up together in the same small New England town on the ocean. We’d gone to the same schools and suffered through the pains of adolescence before she departed for New York to make films. Her claim to fame was a movie about an oversexed robot named Claxone. When it was time for Peace Fleece to make a movie about its work in Russia, the choice was clear. Joshua Therriault is a student and friend of my son Silas and they both attend our local high school. Josh had grown up on a part time farm doing daily chores and while haying on our farm last summer, he had asked me about coming to Russia. As we visited our sheep farms, Anne filmed Josh as he worked on Russian farms, giving injections and meeting with other young people.
Hand Made and Hand Spun Socks $18.50
sold out till Sept. '99
Vadim our knitting needle maker and his button painter wife Galina served us a holiday lunch in Balashia, a suburb of Moscow. Vadim has been successfully treating gall stones with homeopathic medicine and had made great progress. I am impressed how Russians reach for the old village methods of curing disease and consider them often more legitimate than the "modern" methods of the Soviet era.
Russian Drop Spindle $8.00
One night while walking in Moscow, I became lost and asked for directions. "Where are you from?" one man asked. "American number one," he smiled and pointed my way down the long street. It was not till I had walked over half a mile in the wrong direction did I feel his sarcasm. With the 'new Russian' leaving for Switzerland with his rubles and the 'new American' leaving for home with whatever dollars he can salvage, no wonder there are missles in Saratov looking for a target. Once again I feel fortunate to have the opportunity to work with the best of people in the worst of times. and once again I appreciate what I so often take for granted back home in Maine.
Peace Fleece in Texas
When we went looking for domestic wool and mohair for Peace Fleece's 1999 spinning, we headed to the Turner ranch in West Texas. Tim Turner is the fifth generation to own and operate the T Star ranch. When my wife Marty's Uncle Si came home from the Korean War, his first job was running a band of sheep outside of Dallas. He met Tim's aunt, married and had a family. Although Si never raised sheep again, he had married into one of the most prosperous wool raising families in the Southwest. Tim, his wife Judy and their two daughters Tara and Amanda were just far enough removed from our side of the family that we never crossed paths at family reunions. But when I called last April saying we needed help finding wool, they gave me the keys to West Texas.
Turner Family
Early morning in the hill country is chilly and the headlights from the arriving pickups and their horse trailers greeted me in the distance as I made my way down the hill toward the stable. Quinn, Robert, Johnny, Judy, Shane, Amanda and I saddled up in the dark. As we snapped on chaps and spurs, I could hear Tim's plane in the distance scouting for the first band of sheep. Three days on horseback, 6-7 hours a day, I learned to do everything in the saddle because after the first few hours, there was no way I was getting off and on again. Arriving back to the stables late in the afternoon, I would ride around back out of site of the others and slowly lower myself to the ground. What a glorious time I had. Hispanic shearing crews, cowpokes coming and going with new bands of sheep, clouds of dust against a clear blue sky. Lots of homecooked food, long baths, deep sleeps, then up and do it again.
I came home with as much of the Turner Rambuiollet wool as I could afford. Bright white and soft, it has now been washed, and has taken our dyes beautifully. Blended with Texas mohair and our Ukrainian Merino, it will first appear in our new color Hemlock Poshja (Hemlock Grove) now at the spinnery. Peace Fleece is very grateful to the Turner family for growing such soft and lustrous wool and we are pleased to introduce the T Star Ranch to all of you (for more information on the T Star Ranch, check out www.swlm.com).
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