Finding connection in the craft of fiber

By: Nora Dummer

Tucked into the literature of the Slow Food Movement* lies the philosophy of nose-to-tail farming. Using the entire animal – it’s milk for dairy products, flesh and organs for meat, fat for skin-care products, and hides and fiber for attire and housewares – epitomizes the ideal of the sustainable agriculture that is so quintessential to Slow Food.  

Minnesota has a thriving organic and regenerative farming scene that has a particular fondness for nose-to-tail farming and has given rise to a vibrant fiber community. Get Bentz Farm and Fiber Mill of Northfield raises a variety of sheep breeds for their wool but also involves butchery for meat and organs, tanning the animal skins and selling the bones for broth. Shepherd’s Way of Nerstrand is a sheep dairy farm that produces award winning cheese but also processes wool for bedding and sells meat at farmers markets. For some operations, meat and dairy is the byproduct of wool production, for others, wool is the byproduct.

The practice of raising animals like alpacas, llamas, sheep, goats, angora rabbits and even yaks for their coats date back thousands of years. The essence of this process has remained relatively unchanged; the animals are sheared or combed, their coats are washed (scoured), and the fiber is spun into usable threads for batting, bedding or yarn. 

“As most mid-century British novels show, textiles are not for the faint of heart”, writes Brittney Johnson of Underwood Lamb and Wool Company. I’ve reached out to her and a slew of other women in the fiber community of Minnesota and am starting to get the picture. Their journeys all begin in a similar fashion: owning and operating a farm came chapters after the initial love for fiber art such as crocheting, knitting or felting. The more I dig into their stories, the richer the tapestry becomes.


After talking with Amy of Nash Lake Fiber Farm, I’m reminded of the Polyface Farm that Michael Pollen made famous in his book, Omnivore’s Dilemma that is synonymous with sustainability; the Nash Lake resident llama acts as watchdog to thwart predators, their ducks and chickens control the pests that would alter the quality of their wool (and give them great eggs for eating), and they use local plants on the property for their all-natural dyes. Similarly, Shepherd’s Way measures all of their business decisions against their regenerational mission. “For us, caring for the animals and the environment in ways that help preserve the life of the soil, the quality of the water, and the quality of life for the animals is central,” says owner Jodi Ohlsen Read. Local farms like these seek to work with nature, not against it.

Plus, the farmers truly love their animals. “I adore working with and getting to know the individual animals!  They are each unique in personality and each produce their own unique fiber,” says Amy. 

While many women get into fiber for the art and animals, they stay for the community that Minnesotans have forged for generations. The Knitters Guild, which began in 1985, boasts over 500 members and hosts meetings at the nation’s only official hub for fiber arts, The Textile Center. Fiber Arts Trails are established tourism networks of fiber artists, shops, quilt museums, historical places, farms and art centers around the Upper Midwest. There are many festivals across the state, such as the Shepherd’s Harvest Sheep & Wool Festival in Lake Elmo, the Minnesota Fiber Festival in Cambridge, and the Fall Fiber Festival in Hopkins. Of course, Nash Lake has their calendar filled with monthly classes, events and markets.

I asked Deborah of the Minnesota Fiber Festival why she thinks there is such a strong tradition here in Minnesota, and why the majority of those driving the art are women.

“The strong fiber tradition here can be traced back to the many people who kept knitting, spinning, weaving, crocheting and felting decades ago when those arts were no longer fashionable. These people kept the fiber arts traditions alive and passed them on to their children and grandchildren.”

Deborah continues, “Women have been working in all aspects of the textile/fiber industry and at home for centuries. It seems like more women have been interested in quality wool breed sheep while men are more interested in the commercial meat breeds. The women I have known who raise fiber animals are very interested in improving the quality of the fiber to produce high quality textiles. They are strongly committed to their flocks, are independent and innovative. Over time, they want to have a career in the fiber industry. Many of them start fiber mills and are very successful. They attend festivals as vendors of supplies and finished goods. They teach classes to engage new and returning fiber arts people. They attend sheep or alpaca or rabbit shows to promote their animals. It would be so easy to live a life in isolation with their animals and crafts but instead, they gather regularly in yarn stores, craft stores, libraries, coffee shops, and, yes, even bars, to socialize and enjoy the camaraderie. Eventually, they plan retreats. Finally, they plan a festival.”

Beyond the love of fiber, a shared gratitude for the arts’ creative outlet is another common theme among the farmers. “Fiber crafts allow each of us to express our individuality and recognize the uniqueness of all of us,” says Deborah. 


The US currently contributes less than 1% of the world’s wool production; sourcing local wool from nose-to-tail farms is better for the local economy and the commitment to sustainable agriculture. There’s a beautiful poetry about spinning and knitting with renewable, high quality, local fiber from farmers who have utmost respect for the gifts from their animals; it’s one product that keeps hands busy, homes decorated and bodies warm during the long, cold winters of Minnesota. 

*The Slow Food Movement, starting in 1986, is a global grassroots organization that promotes local food and traditional cooking.


Nora Dummer is a chef and cooking class instructor who’s recently returned to Minnesota after a long, soggy stint in Seattle. In the rare moments of relief from chasing around her two young children, she is busy building her all-things-food-business, for the love of cuts and burns.