Modern Pioneers

The driveway to Clifton Wool 'n' Things is lined with a 60 inch hand-placed stone wall. I use inches here instead of meters because Pat and Ian haven't had the time to learn the metric system since it was introduced to New Zealand years ago. They've been too busy raising sheep. The Romney-based sheep that the Robertson's raise are unique; they are bred for color. Today their 1100 head of charcoal, pale grey, brown, cinnamon, black and cream sheep is the largest colored flock in the country.

A chorus of "Baas" followed us as we pulled down the long gravel drive for the third time in a week. We'd come back to order another hand-knit sweater. After traveling in New Zealand for over two months, we hadn't seen another knitter with such fine workmanship and such a variety of natural colors.

Says Pat, "We search for rams from other breeders with just the right color to insure our colors stay consistent. We've been in business for 22 years. It took a while to get the colors I wanted." She pointed to a young lamb. "That spotted ram over there was born here. It'll make a very nice blend of brown and cinnamon."

The Robertson's have a full product operation on their farm, from breeding, to sheering, to spinning to knitting the finished product. And their finished products are beautiful. Their sweaters and sheep skins have won numerous awards. Blue and yellow ribbons and certificates are pinned to the wall along with thank-you letters from visiting school children and happy customers. "I get a lot of repeat business," says Pat. "One woman in the United States keeps ordering another sweater. It's gotten to be a regular thing." I may be adding to that U.S. passion for wool sweaters. I had stopped back to order a cinnamon vest for myself after having ordered one earlier for my Mother.

Pat took the measurement information and laid the paper on top of a sweater I had picked from the pile on the table. This would give her an idea of the pattern I wanted. Could she also add a pattern down the back? "Absolutely, design any sweater you'd like."

The shop that displays all these sweaters and woolen goods is a small converted shed. Bags of un-spun fleece, in every color, line the back wall. Above them are rolls of carded fleece and yarn. In the opposite corner hangs skeins of multi-colored thicker yarns, and everywhere are sweater, scarves, vests, hats, mittens, sheep skins and woven cloth.

Before leaving I tried on a wide-brim wool hat, just for fun. It looked great, but with another year of summer ahead of me, buying one was difficult. I put it back on the rack. I told Pat that she'd be hearing from my family again; already my Grandmother is interested in a custom sweater. Perhaps I'll get that hat later too.

Outside a single brown-nosed sheep looked at us and cocked it's head. It followed us with it's eyes as we headed for our car. "That's Shelly," Pat called. "She'll talk to you if you go up to her." We headed back up the gravel drive and waved good-bye. When we get back home, I'll have a New Zealand-made wool vest waiting for me. It will be a nice 1996 Christmas present to myself.