Mother of all socks

Our annual communal shearing took place on November 16. We share the day with any of our neighbours whose sheep need shearing. We inherited a shearing shed, a fairly antique shearing plant (apparently about sixty years old), yards and sheds. It's like a miniature version of a real sheep farm.
The shearer told us to keep the sheep in the yards and away from food overnight. We had to clear the shed for the occasion, because it is only used once a year for shearing and it's usually full of bicycles and mopeds.

Below is a moment of the action which I accidentally captured on video when I thought I was taking a photo.
It shows Jimmy the shearer from Trotters' Gorge, a few miles south of our village and Joe our neighbour.



Joe crutching our sheep before shearing.


Waiting, waiting


Billy the ram.


There's always a black sheep amongst them. A very wild Pitt Island ewe.


Looking good.