Posted by 1 on
When you were twelve years-old your grandmother probably bought you a wool sweater for the holidays. Maybe it had snowflakes on it. Maybe it was in a weird shade of brown. Whatever the exact sweater looked like, you don't remember. What you do remember is itching. Sitting in class, you scratched at your neck and pushed at the sleeves. You couldn't wait to take it off the minute you got home. Things are different now. On a farm in New Zealand is a field with happy sheep under sunny skies. The wool from these sheep is soft, airy and ideal...