So, I was surfing the net this morning and came across a picture of sheep, which brought to mind the time I went with Zia Celesta and Zia Cristinella to Nonna Maria’s house in Cellole.

It was a nice summer morning and there was just the slightest of a breeze. Upon unlatching the courtyard gate to Nonna‘s house, my senses shifted into overdrive. There was movement everywhere: woolen fleece was being stacked near an old wooden table where Nonna sat cleaning flotsam and jetsam from the wool; one woman was 'rounding-up' some of the sheep who had attempted to escape, corralling them into a make-shift pen for the occasion; a couple of men were cutting fleece at record speed; and, scurrying about was Tonino, my younger cousin, gathering the felled wool to the ‘cleaning table’.

Sheep that were not corralled or already sheared were in search of a place to hide .....

 Baa-aa-aa! Baa-aa-a!

We entered the hysteria where I was quickly shoved in the direction of the old wooden table to take over for Nonna so she could help in the shearing. After a quick overview of the chore-at-hand, I was left alone to ponder this fate before me. Matted, dirty, and mottled in prickly shards of hay, I began to eradicate the woolen fleece of its debris. Ah yes … the memories of my youth.