When I first heard the term “dry balls,” I couldn’t help but think it was some kind of crude pornography. I had no idea dry balls, made from the roving wool we get twice a year from our sheep, were changing the nature of clothes washing and drawing raves from environmentalists.

Things are always happening on the farm. There is no stasis here.

When I got home from my ukelele lesson (which went well), I found dry balls all over the dining room table.

This would have been very unusual in most households, but it was just another day at the office.

Maria had been researching dry balls and has added color and style to the ones she has been selling for the past few years. Drying balls, as they are often called, are red hot.

Maria is planning on making up to 60 of them and selling them along with her yarn. There are only two skeins of yarn left, and she’s already received orders for 40 drying balls in advance.

She has become a whiz at this, rolling the balls into tight, hard circles and adding color roving to them to give them some character and personality. Ever the artist. I suspect I will not be permitted to help. She is very picky about her dry balls.

She makes six at a time and stuffs them into my socks, many of which she has mysteriously saved and liberated. The dry balls are stuffed into the six, six at a time, and will be washed and felted tomorrow. She’s selling them in packs of three.

I know what we will be doing this weekend—making dry balls (if I pass muster) and doing a lot of shipping. The idea of the dry ball is growing on me as it affects many people.

If you want one, you can e-mail Maria at [email protected]. I wouldn’t wait too long.

( For the record, dryer balls are most commonly made of tightly compressed wool, but can also be made of plastic or rubber. They help prevent laundry from clumping in the dryer by tumbling between layers and separating fabric. This action allows warm air to circulate better, which can even help reduce drying time, thus lower electric bills.)