The couple went into the pen and grabbed a sheep. You can see one has already been shorn, the other not.
The sheep was big and strong, and it fought like mad. The poor couple had a time of it. You can see that the man's hat even fell off.
While the woman held the sheep, the man sharpened the scissors. Yes, SCISSORS! They had to do it the old fashioned way.
It takes about an hour to shear a sheep this way. I wanted to ask the man what kind of pain killer he takes when he gets home. He did most of it bending over. The sheep feel much better in warm weather with all the pounds of wool off their body. The pots over the fire were to boil the wool. They passed the wool around and it was sticky because it had lanolin in it. And no, nobody pulled the wool over my eyes.
“As a sheep led to slaughter, and quiet as a lamb being sheared, He was silent, saying nothing. He was mocked and put down, never got a fair trial. But who now can count his kin since he’s been taken from the earth?”