Important Note: This is another series of blog posts where, when the events described within were transpiring, we did not take notes, and so here I am, thousands of years later, attempting to give context to images that, while able to trigger fragments of memories, act as an incomplete picture of the story. Sure enough, we should have been tending to these things without fail, but little did we understand the value of revisiting milestones later in life. And so, without that proverbial further ado, here we go into a murky past.

All quiet in the gym while everyone is downstairs in the dining area/tornado shelter enjoying each other’s company and breakfast before the rush to finish the small details.

Meanwhile, I wander around, already missing our time out here in the middle of the Great Plains and small-town America.

Carders are carding, spinners are spinning, and shoppers are shopping for those last-minute things they need to drag home. Come noon, the gym will empty one last time, and Nikol, with the help of her instructors, will get busy clearing away the tools and debris of another wildly successful session of Yarn School.

Oh-so beautiful roving and how nice that Nikol supplies a photo box just for capturing these kinds of images.

Nice colorwork, wife!

And with the last item photographed it’s time to leave the building.

A group photo with Caroline out front and center, and we were gone.

Traveling the Kansanian countryside in a southerly direction on our way back to Oklahoma City.

We just found the one hill out here in Flatland.

No longer the view from the car.

Good old brown canyon lands mean we must be close to home.

The snaking brown path through the bottom half of the photo is one of the canals supplying water to the valley, while the road that passes through the mountains, roughly top center, is Cave Creek Road, which continues north to where we live.

And the sun sets on another workshop, another trip, another day.